Maggie's Story
by gorblimey2
Summary: Maggie, med student, rents a room to Greg House in Philadelphia, while House does his residency. Her brother is an Irish mob boss who helps support her. Maggie comes and goes throughout House's life. Hot,lots of humorous banter and some angst
1. Chapter 1

©KBrogan 2008

**Maggie's Story**

Dedicated to Josh, who's serving our country…one day at a time!

**Chapter 1**

**Back of the Turnip Truck**

There was nothing unusual about the street, it consisted mostly of row houses, a neighborhood bar, deli and convenience store, but he was having trouble finding the place. Looking at the sheet of paper again, he realized that the number written down was an eight, not a six. He gunned the car and drove two blocks down, seeing a young woman standing impatiently on the sidewalk in front of the brick row house that bore the numbers he was looking for. Short and antsy, she was shifting from foot to foot on her well worn Keds. Waving at him to pull over, he saw that her blondish-red hair pulled back in a pony-tail bounced as she motioned to him. He pulled up and, much to his surprise, she jumped into the front seat.

A wave of Philadelphia heat bowled over him from the outside replacing the cool crisp air conditioning as she wrenched open the door. She turned, a tiny trickle of perspiration running down her neck, and barked, "It took you long enough! Where the hell have you been?"

Greg House looked at her somewhat perplexed. He recognized her voice as being the one over the phone, "I thought I was early?"

She let out a heavy sigh, "Early? You're an hour late! Well, shit, Jack will probably kill us when we get there, you better start driving."

"Driving? Where am I going?"

"Cavanaugh's on Frankford in Richmond." She screwed up her face, "For Christ's sake, get going…we're late as it is." Annoyed, she waved at him to move the car.

House started driving down the street of row houses and maples. He wasn't sure what he was doing or where he was supposed to go, but he knew where Richmond was because he had looked at a room to rent in the area just the day before. After a few minutes of driving, House said casually, "I can get us to Frankford, but you're going to have to show me the address."

"My God, where did Jack get you? You been in a monastery or something?"

"I'm new in town."

Her jaw dropped with realization, "Oh Jesus H. Christ! You're the guy looking for a room, aren't you? Damn, I forgot to call you and let you know that the room was rented. A woman came by and said she'd be back later to give me a deposit."

House pulled over and stopped the car, "Then why am I giving you a ride?"

He could see the panic on her face. Shaking her head, she threw her hands up, "Look, my brother has a temper. If I don't get over there soon, he's probably going to take my allowance away. Please, if you give me a ride, I promise to give you some of whatever we're going to get."

"Some of whatever we're going to get? That's pretty nebulous. What are we getting?"

"I'm not sure, but it's ten boxes, maybe more with six to a box. Whatever it is."

He thought for a second and then reached over her lap, noticed the pale, but nicely shaped thighs partially covered by her cutoffs, and opened the door on her side, "Get out of the car."

She narrowed her eyes and snarled, "Like hell. Buddy, I don't know what you think you're playing at, but you don't make Maggie Malone walk. Do you know who my brother is?"

"I could care less if your brother is Sly Stalone…you can walk." He glared back as hard as he could. She was gritting her teeth. He noticed that she had freckles that splattered everywhere on her face. Light red hair, not orange, almost blonde, was pulled back into a ponytail that fell soft and wavy just past her shoulders. She was very pretty, not beautiful, but certainly a head turner.

She thought for a split second, "How much do you want to take me to the bar?"

"I want the room." He paused, sober and determined. "And one of whatever we're getting."

"I don't want to room with an asshole." She crossed her arms across her chest.

"Neither do I; but guess what? It looks like I'm going to end up with you, aren't I?"

She cursed under her breath, "You don't even know what the room looks like. How do you know you want it?"

The corners of his wide lips turned up, "Because if a woman is willing to rent it, it must be okay. I'll pay the 400 a month you were asking and that includes my utilities."

She took a deep breath and brushed away the stands of hair from her face, "400 includes all your utilities _but the phone_. You pay for a third of the phone and all your long distance calls."

He nodded and started the car, smiling to himself, relieved that he finally had lodgings. Rooms were going fast now that the med school, internships and residencies were ready to start. He hadn't expected the housing market to be so tight, but then most of the residents who had rooms already, knew him or his reputation, and refused to rent to him.

After a few minutes, she asked softly, "What's your name again?"

"House, Gregory House."

The pretty woman still had her arms crossed and was seemingly staring at the road straight ahead. But he noticed that she kept stealing glances at him from the corner of her eye. "Are you a student?"

He snickered, "Do I _look_ like a student? I'm a doctor; I'm doing a residency in Nephrology at Temple."

"Really? Where did you go to med school?"

"Hopkins. I did my internship and residency in infectious diseases at Michigan."

She relaxed, "I don't allow smoking."

"Fair enough. I don't smoke…much."

"You buy and cook your own food."

He nodded.

She jerked her arm up and pointed, "There, over there. Pull into the alley behind it and back your trunk up to the dock."

House saw the building, it was a bar between two taller brick buildings. A large sign with a shamrock declared, '_Cavanaugh's Bar, Proud Home of Local 30.'_ There were shamrocks painted on the glass and a neon sign in the window that said, '_We Serve Guinness.'_ House did as he was told and pulled the car around the back in the alley, but there was no one on the dock to greet them. The redhead looked worried. As soon as he stopped the car she jumped out, "Wait here."

A few minutes later a man, in his late twenties, with features that could only mean he was her brother, came out to the dock. Rolling up the steel door, he revealed ten medium sized boxes with _Sony_ written on the side. The young woman and her brother were having a very animated argument. Both of them were in each other's faces. House got out and ventured towards the dock.

"…never showed up. If it hadn't been for him, I wouldn't have made it. Now do you want to continue to argue or help me load these? If we don't get them back, we're going to miss the buyer."

"Jesus, Maggie, you're such a pain in the ass. I don't know why I support you."

House watched as she gave her brother a smile that would melt any man's resolve. The brother, whose hair was even redder than his sister's, reluctantly met her smile with his own, forming a temporary truce. He handed a box to House as House opened the trunk. Within a few minutes the boxes were loaded in the trunk and backseat.

Maggie kissed her brother on the cheek and jumped into the passenger side of the silver Galaxy. Her brother walked over to the driver's side where House was sitting behind the wheel. He leaned in on the open window and narrowed his eyes.

"Maggie says you're going to rent a room from her."

House sized up the man and decided that he had a certain look that men get who are used to having their way. House was known to have the same look most of the time. But House didn't want to ruin a good thing so he gave a polite nod.

"I'm Jack, Maggie's brother. The house may belong to her, but I pay the mortgage, utilities and food for her while she's in school. So you'll be seeing me from time to time. She said your name is Gregory House. Well, Gregory House, make sure you treat my sister good or you'll be talking to me and a couple of my friends. Do we understand each other?"

House nodded again, started the engine and waited for Jack to stand up straight before slowly pulling out of the dock and into the alley. He looked over at Maggie who was staring out the back of the window, smiling and waving at her brother.

"What's in the boxes?"

"Sony Walkmans. Don't worry, you'll get one."

"What did you mean buyer?"

"I've got a guy who's going to buy these for 75 a Walkman. It's my books and living expenses for the next few months."

House wrinkled his brow, "But they're worth twice that."

"If you buy them in the store. He'll sell them for 125. "

"How much profit will you make?" House asked.

"You do the math, 10 boxes with six walkman at 75." She said casually, watching the road in front of her.

He glanced over at her, "You mean that you didn't pay anything for them?"

She chuckled, "They fell off a truck."

House was beginning to understand, "What does your brother do for a living?"

She turned and looked at him. House would learn that Maggie's eyes changed constantly from gray to blue and back depending on the time of day, the weather, what she was wearing and how pissed off she was. They looked blue to him at that moment and they looked angry.

"None of your fuckin' business."

He pulled his head back and laughed. "I seeeeee."

She thought a minute, letting his question stew, "He runs that bar. It's the family bar."

"What's so private about that?"

She shrugged her shoulders, "Nothing I guess. It was just the way you asked it."

"Yeah, well when he's not running the bar, is he chasing trucks to see what falls off the back?"

She smiled and rolled her blue-grey eyes.

They pulled up to the curb and carried the boxes inside the three story house. It was whitewashed brick with forest green shutters. After unloading, Maggie gave House a tour. There was a large parlor with a fireplace that was boarded up. Just off the living room was a dining room with a large maple table and six matching chairs. In the back of the house was the kitchen with a small eat-in dining area, complete with a melamine table and small breakfast bar. The kitchen was clean, the cupboards freshly painted white and sporting chrome handles. They stepped in to a small room where there was a washer and dryer, pantry and cupboard. The door to the basement was next to the laundry room.

Next to the steps leading up to the bedrooms was a small powder room with a toilet and sink. Upstairs, on the second floor were two bedrooms. The smaller room was partially furnished with a newer looking twin bed and a cheap chest of drawers. By the window was a small pressboard desk. The room had lace curtains under heavier velvet curtains that could be pulled together to darken the room, perfect for when House would have to take the night shift. Further down the hall on the left was the second bedroom, but the door was closed. He assumed it was Maggie's. At the end of the hall was the door to the bathroom and a linen closet. There was a set of stairs going to the third floor.

She took him upstairs and he watched as her small, but round hips swayed in her cutoffs. On the third floor was a third bedroom about the size of the small one downstairs, another small powder room and then an open area with storage and built in shelves that housed books. The entire house, or what he could see, with the exception of the bathrooms and possibly her room, had been painted a mauve, a popular color for homes and one which he found rather sickening. The bathrooms were a pale yellow.

"The bathroom on the second floor is the only bathroom in the house with a bath and shower. So, in the mornings, you need to take your shower and, if someone is waiting, do the rest of your toiletries in your room or in the downstairs bathroom."

House liked the bathroom, it was large with an old fashioned gravity flow toilet, a claw tub and a makeshift shower that had been added sometime later to the bathtub. The floor was made up of small octagonal black and white tiles. She pointed to a towel rack and a little set of drawers. "That's yours. The one up there is Mike's. The vanity drawers are mine…_all _mine."

"Mike?"

"He's a friend of the family from Trenton. He boards here while he's in college. He has the other room."

"School starts Tuesday, when will he be back?"

"Monday night. He goes home as much as possible." Maggie turned and walked towards his new room, "I need your first and last rent."

"Who do I make the check out to?"

She pointed to her chest, "Me, Maggie Malone."

He went over to the desk in his new room, pulled out a check book from his back pocket, wrote a check for 800 and handed it to her. "You said something about school? What are you taking?"

"I'm starting med school at Temple."

House tilted his head, "Really? You look too young. How old are you?"

"Twenty-one."

He stuck his lip out, "Hmm, you're older than I thought, but still young to be starting med school."

"I went to private Catholic School and graduated when I was sixteen, went year long to college to get it over with in three years. I'm in a hurry."

"So your brother supports you?"

She nodded, but said nothing more as she headed down the stairs, check in hand. House followed.

"Can I paint the room something besides that putrid purple?"

She started laughing, "What? Don't you like mauve?" She stopped and looked at him, her eyes gray now, "I hate the color too, but the place needed painting and the paint fell off one of those trucks. As long as you pick a tolerable color, I don't care."

"Navajo White."

Maggie shrugged her shoulders, "Navajo White? Not white, not cream, but Navajo White? Fine." She checked him out, up and down, "You're here five minutes and you want to redecorate. Are you gay? I mean, it's okay, I just never lived with a gay guy."

House walked down a couple of stairs, reached down and let his breath tickle her ear as he whispered, "It depends on how gay you want me to be? Pleasant or really, really happy?"

Maggie shivered from his breath on her neck, stared defiantly and then started down the steps again. Walking into the living room, Maggie crossed to one of the _Sony_ boxes, opened it up and threw House a Walkman. She turned and crossed to the kitchen. House followed, watching as she got two beers out of the refrigerator.

"Don't you have air conditioning?" he asked.

Opening the beers, Maggie handed one to House, "In my room. If you want to get a small one for your room, it will cost you an additional 15 for the increase in the electric bill."

He smiled seductively at her, "Or, I could just sneak into your room to sleep."

"Man, you're a little creepy." She 1 held up her ring finger to point out the diamond engagement ring that House had already noticed when they were in the car. "You are a loser. I am a goddess. I'm engaged, so keep your thoughts and your mitts to yourself."

He sat down at the little melamine table, "Does your fiancé live here in the house?"

She shook her head, "He's got a couple of years left in the Navy. He's stationed in California."

"_Navy?"_

"Yeah, they paid for his schooling. He's a Jag officer."

"How old is he?"

"Twenty-seven. We grew up together in this neighborhood."

House laughed, "You mean he babysat you."

She sat down at the breakfast bar on a wood stool covered with a gingham elastic cushion, "He's my brother's friend, Tom. He was around all the time. When I was in high school Tom kept telling my brother that he needed to keep an eye on me. Said I was pretty and naïve, that someone was going to take advantage of that. Little did my brother know it would be Tom who took advantage of it. We started going out when I was seventeen and he was in law school. We got engaged last year." Maggie sat her beer down and looked at House's finger, "So, do you have a girlfriend?"

House frowned, "Did, but when I left Michigan, I didn't invite her to come with me. It seemed a natural time to end it, so she's not speaking to me anymore."

"Are you just now doing your residency? Did they keep you back in kindergarten?"

He held up a finger to indicate a pause and burped, loudly. Maggie chuckled and shook her head in mock disgust. Having a brother meant she was used to garish male behavior.

"I've already done a turn in Internal Medicine for a year and then a subspecialty in Infectious Diseases for the last three years. Now I'm doing a residency in Nephrology."

It didn't make sense to her; the specialties didn't really seem to overlap. She could understand a second residency in Immunology or Dermatology, but Nephrology? "Why? Not too many people associate Nephrology with Infectious Diseases."

"I plan on becoming a diagnostician."

She giggled, "_A what?"_

"It's a new specialty, you learn how to diagnose difficult symptomology."

Maggie still wasn't convinced it was real. "You mean, all you do is diagnose people? What about treatment?"

House smirked, "I could care less about patient care after I figure out what's wrong with them."

She chortled, clearly not understanding why anyone would become a doctor if they didn't want to treat the patient.

House looked Maggie up and down. She wasn't skinny, but the only place he saw a little extra flesh was her abdomen, and it was only slightly round. He thought her legs, which extended out from her jean shorts, were nicely shaped with curvy calves and thin ankles. He was just about to evaluate her breasts when the doorbell rang. She jumped up and hurried to the door.

House joined her and watched as an Italian man pulled an envelope from his pocket while eyeing House suspiciously. Two other young Italians began taking the boxes out the door. Within minutes the boxes were gone along with the men and Maggie was counting her money.

"Don't you count the money _before_ you hand over the goods?"

She rolled her eyes, "That would be an insult. We trust each other. Or, at least my brother trusts Paulo. He knows if he short changes me, that…" She looked up from counting, realizing that she was talking to a virtual stranger, "…my brother won't be happy. They like keeping my brother happy."

"What, or they'll wake up with a dead leprechaun in their bed?"

House was surprised when she giggled. "Yeah, something like that."

House spent the rest of the weekend moving into the room after painting it Navajo White. The room had little storage so House bought shelves and installed them with Maggie's permission, promising to leave them when he moved out. He put his stereo and books up on the shelves, hung his Charlie Parker poster and bought some twin sheets, leaving his double sheets and a few items of furniture in storage. The house was big enough that he and Maggie didn't occupy the same space very often. She read in the living room, cooked in the kitchen and spent most her time in her bedroom watching a small television and studying.

House bought some groceries and stored them in the areas Maggie designated for him. It wasn't long until he started eating her left-overs and drinking her beer. Apparently, Maggie either didn't notice or thought it was her brother taking the food, because she didn't mention it.

One Monday night, House was in the living room watching baseball when the door opened and a young, dark haired, brown-eyed man walked into the house with several bags, including one of groceries. He nodded at House.

Leaning forward to shake House's hand, "Hi, I'm Michael O'Sullivan. Are you the new roomie?"

House nodded, "Greg House."

Michael smiled, putting the luggage on the floor, "I thought she'd pick someone…younger and prettier. She usually gets a freshman or sophomore girl. Well, welcome to the hood." He pulled out a beer from the grocery bag and handed it to House, making his way to the kitchen with the rest of the groceries. A few minutes later he appeared back in the living room where he sat down with his own brewsky to watch the Phillies.

House turned to him, "So I hear you're a friend of the family?"

"My Dad's been helping Jack out with the business ever since Maggie's father died. Dad was a good friend of their Dad's. He promised that he'd look out for them when Uncle Liam got cancer."

House fished for some information, "What business? I thought they owned the bar?"

He gave out a sharp laugh, "The bar makes money, but certainly not enough to keep up Jack's lifestyle and Maggie in med school. Most of the money is made from the business- from Jack and his crew." Michael shrugged his shoulders, "You know."

"So they're part of some gang?"

He paused to think about his response, "Jack and a few others are the last of the Irish mob in Philly. He took over from his Dad who was in the K & A."

"K & A?"

"The Irish gang named after the intersection of Kingston and Allegheny, where most of the Irish unions, you know, the roofers, plumbers and truck unions, have their social clubs and locals."

House nodded. "What about Maggie?"

Michael smiled warmly. It was obvious that Mike liked Maggie a lot. "Maggie? She's too busy going to school and working in the bar to get involved too much in the family business."

"What about their mother?"

Michael cocked an eyebrow, "Mother? Maggie's mom and brother, Kieran, died in an auto accident on the Schuylkill Expressway when Maggie was five."

"Now it makes sense why her brother supports her. Does she have any other siblings?"

"No, but she's got Thomas O'Leary, her fiancé. I wouldn't mess with him. He's not only Jack's best friend, but he's also connected to a lot of the union boys."

House snickered, "If someone had told me that I'd be renting from the Irish Mafia in Philadelphia, I would have laughed in their face."

Michael shook his head, "Don't call it that, at least not to Jack or Maggie. She refuses to think of her brother as a criminal. She turns a blind eye to the things he does, people he hurts. He takes good care of her, pays for med school, gave her this house. He loves her more than he loves the woman he lives with. They've been through a lot together."

House saw that Michael was very serious. He thought for a second, took a drink of his beer and turned back to the ballgame. _This is definitely more interesting than Michigan._ _Michigan had its benefits, living with the identical twin blondes with the Double Ds had its good points, so to speak, but the Irish mafia could prove very entertaining._

House hated the first few months of residency. The supervisors were always real hard-asses, trying to make the residents feel stupid and worthless so that they could then be whipped into shape. He knew he had a problem with authority, so the first few weeks of a new job always tested his patience. It didn't take long for House to find himself on the wrong side of his chair, Dr. Lee Sung. Sung had suggested that a patient's kidney failure was the result of the measles. House disagreed and told him that it was Lupus. But since the patient was a male, Sung refused to consider Lupus. Despite being told to concentrate on another case, House ran an ANA, leaving the positive lab results pinned to the cork board in the Doctor's locker room. It was Lupus.

Dr. Nellie Waterson talked Sung out of suspending House, since House had prevented Sung from committing malpractice. But, House was quickly turned over to her. She was now his supervisor, something she didn't relish. Word had spread fast through the Temple medical community - House was a rogue and unpredictable. He didn't play by the rules, but he was a brilliant doctor.


	2. Chapter 2 Pennance

**Chapter 2**

**Penance**

I had managed to rent out both of my rooms, which paid for most of my expenses and part of my tuition; my student loans and Jack paid the rest. I wasn't excited about having two males, both single, living with me. I knew that Tom was going to have a fit when he found out. His last words when we talked about it were, "Find some nice Catholic girls." But he was in Long Beach, California, for the next eighteen months and I had to do what I had to do.

Greg House was a strange man and not my first choice to share my house. According to his rental application, he was thirty years old. I found it very odd that a doctor his age was still living in rented rooms. But he explained to me that it was only temporary. He hoped to buy a house in a year. Renting a room helped him save more for the down payment. But, I wasn't convinced. I think there's something about not having responsibility for the upkeep of a house that he likes.

He's damn good looking, tall and thin with just the right amount of hair on his chest. He wasn't as white as me, but close. It was so hot in the house during the last part of August that he and Michael both went shirtless most of the time. I got used to the smell of man-sweat permeating the downstairs. Greg's was woodsy, musky. Michael's had that sour high note that most people have, probably the result of all the beer he drank. I could tell, just by the smell, who had walked into the room behind me.

Despite the nice reddish brown hair, the height and the huge blue eyes, Greg House was an egotistical jerk that needed an attitude adjustment. He was so confident that sometimes I wanted to slap that smug look off his face. Something that did amuse Mike and me, House was a depository of arcane and inane information which he regaled us with constantly. Annoyingly, he also liked to second guess what everyone was feeling or their motivation for their actions. What was even more annoying was that he was usually right.

Between med school and work, I didn't have much interaction with him in the first few months. He and Michael seemed to hit it off which didn't surprise me. Michael is as odd as Greg in his own way. He says everything that's on his mind, even when it doesn't make sense, and that was usually 90 percent of the time.

I came home one Friday night to find a message from my brother on the answering machine, "Mags, we don't need you tonight at the bar. Erin wants some hours and I figured you could use a night off. See ya."

It was odd having a Friday night off and most of my reading up to date. I retrieved my anatomy book from my backpack and put on a video that I hadn't watched yet. I grabbed a diet coke and parked my butt on the well-worn couch, pulling a throw over my legs. It was now fall and the weather wasn't quite cold enough to turn on the heat. I was studying and watching the video at the same time, something I was good at, when Greg House walked in.

He looked at me like I was a figment of his imagination. He had a video in his hand, "What are you doing home?"

"I live here."

He snickered, "You know what I mean. Don't you work Friday nights?"

"I have the night off. Erin needs money for a new car, so she's working my shift."

He took his jacket off, throwing it on the chair, walked into the kitchen and returned with a Bud in his hand. "This beer sucks."

I knew it was Michael's beer, "Then buy your own. Besides, stop Bogarting his beer."

He said nothing, turning to the television. "What crap is this?"

"The Milagro Beanfield War."

He frowned and gave me a look of disgust. I ignored it. After taking a rather large gulp of beer, he put it down, grabbed his video, walked over, ejected mine and put his in. When he turned around, I could feel my mouth form a perfect "O" from the audacity of his actions.

"Did the aliens forget to remove your anal probe? Put that back in! Who the fuck do you think you are?"

He smiled mischievously. Walking to the couch, he pushed my feet back so that my knees bent up. He sat down where my feet had been, grabbed the remote and started to fast forward through the titles. He looked over to see my reaction.

I have to admit that I was so stunned I just stared at him. I finally came to my senses, "_Put my video back in._"

He pulled his head back and narrowed his eyes in disapproval, "Go upstairs. You have a video player and television up there. This one is for your lodgers."

I wanted to know how he knew about my bedroom, but instead I kicked him, "They both belong to me. Get your own."

He laughed at me, grabbing my feet and putting them in his lap to keep me from kicking. He nodded towards the television, "Watch. It's Batman. Jack Nicholson kicks ass."

"The only ass getting kicked is going to be yours!" I tried to jerk my feet out of his lap, but he held on. I leaned forward and hit him as hard as I could in his upper arm.

He chuckled, reached out with his free hand and grabbed my fists, "Oh ho, a little tigress, huh? Damn it, just watched the movie. I'll put yours in when this one is done, deal?"

"_No! This isn't your house!_"

"Like hell. I pay for my room…it sure is my house."

I tried to pull my hand and feet away, but he was stronger than he looked. I stopped struggling after a few minutes and looked at him. "Wait until you're asleep. A frying pan to your head might just do you some good."

He gave me a sly smile, one that said he found me interesting. I hadn't expected that. I relaxed a little, but kept staring into his eyes. I realized we were acting like two dogs, whoever looked away was going to be the weaker of the two. He leaned into my face, still staring hard into my eyes. My jaw was clenched and I gave it right back.

"I'm going to give you three seconds to start watching or I'm going to have to French kiss you. You're turning me on."

I felt my face and body flush and knew that my pale skin was now a bright, glowing red. I gasped and looked away, much to his delight. He howled with laughter at me.

"Now watch the movie. If you're good, I'll give your feet a massage."

"Keep your perverted paws off of me."

I slapped his hands as hard as I could and pulled them out of his lap, but he grabbed them back without even looking. He started giving my feet and calves a massage, despite my efforts to pull them away, holding onto my feet with a firm grip. After a few minutes I gave up and pretended to go back to my studies. But, I'm a sucker for a foot massage and have to admit, it felt delicious. He knew what he was doing and I didn't want him to stop. I wondered if he knew how to massage other parts of the body?

Despite efforts to stay indifferent, within a few minutes I had put my anatomy book down and was watching the movie. It was hard to watch because the massage was lulling me to sleep. I drifted off at one part, but he shook my leg, waking me up. I bounced out of my sleep and paid attention. Greg eventually stopped the massage and I slipped my feet out of his lap. He didn't seem to notice or maybe he was so engrossed in Michael Keaton and Jack Nicholson that it didn't matter. Either way, I had my feet back.

When the movie was over, he got up, took out the video and put mine back in. He walked back to the couch, looked seductively down at me, smiled and handed me the remote. My heart was pounding, worried that he might do something. But, he took a drink and walked off, grabbing his jacket on his way out the door. I was shaking, my feelings ping ponging through me. Part of me had wanted something sensual to happen, the other wanted to scratch his face and kick him in the balls. It was a good thing he left, because usually when I'm confronted with a choice like that, I choose the later. I jumped up and ran up the stairs to bed.

The next day, I heard a woman giggling in his room. A few minutes later they appeared in the kitchen as I was getting a bowl of cereal. She was a beautiful brunette, clad only in his t-shirt. They stopped in the middle of the kitchen as he groped and kissed her in front of me. The t-shirt lifted partially as they tongued each other. She had no panties on and I blushed when I saw her crotch pressed up against his boxers. I ran up to my room, closing the door. I found Greg House disgusting, perverted, ill-mannered and crude. I also found my hand slipping under the elastic of my panties for a much needed release, that kiss had been hot.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Forgive me father, for I have sinned. It's been a month since my last confession."

"Tell me what sins you have committed."

I shifted my weight on my knees and grimaced. I hated this part of the confessional. The whole thing is supposed to be private, but I knew Father Byrne well and he knew me, especially my voice. I didn't get the veil of secrecy others in the parish enjoyed, "I've used the Lord's name in vain, several times. I lied to my brother. I told him that I had an exam so that I didn't have to work a shift. I've had unpure thoughts about a man who is not my fiancé. I've pleasured myself."

I think I heard a chuckle, but I wasn't sure.

"Are you sorry for your sins?"

"Yes, Father."

"Dominus noster Jesus Christus te absolvat; et ego auctoritate ipsius te absolvo ab omni vinculo excommunicationis et interdicti in quantum possum et tu indiges. Deinde, ego te absolvo a peccatis tuis in nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti**.** Amen." Father Byrne paused, "Your penance will be to say an act of Contrition, do an act of charitable work and fast for twelve hours."

_Crap! _I had plans to go out to dinner with some of the students that night for dinner and a beer._ I guess I deserved it. _Jack never received more than an act of contrition for his penance. I had a feeling that Father Byrne held me at a higher standard, hence I usually spent a good portion of my day paying penance for the slightest infractions. I left the booth and took a seat in a pew, pulling the knee bar down to kneel. I felt in my pocket and took out my rosary, beginning the act of contrition as I did:

_O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest all my sins, because of Thy just punishments, but most of all because they offend Thee, my God, who art all good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve, with the help of Thy grace to sin no more and to avoid the near occasion of sin. Amen._

I stayed and prayed the Rosary for my brother before getting up to leave. I genuflected and took in a deep breath. I loved the smell of Church, the smell of incense, the view of the altar, the sight of Jesus on the Cross and then Mary, our Mother, looking sweetly down on us, comforting us. Even as a child, the Church made me feel safe when the rest of my world was in chaos.

I went home and saw Greg sitting on the couch in his boxer shorts, eating a sandwich. It was almost one in the afternoon.

"You have the night shift?" I asked.

He nodded, took a swig and then a bite. His mouth full of bread, he mumbled, "Why? You need servicing? I've got time."

My upper lip curled into a snarl, "You're the reason God created the middle finger!" I flipped him off. Frankly, I found him quite crude. I sat down and took my shoes off, rubbing my feet, remembering how good his massage had felt. Staring at his sandwich, I quickly remembered that I was fasting for the next twelve hours.

He looked down at me and then his sandwich, "You want a bite?"

I shook my head, "Fasting."

His eyes narrowed and he wrinkled his nose, "_Fasting?"_

"Twelve hours…penance for my sins."

He started laughing at me. "Don't tell me you just went to confession? I'd like to know what you confessed." He wiggled his eyebrows, "Your erotic thoughts about me?" He leaned back, took a swig of coke and cocked his head, "I've always wondered, 1do communion wafers taste better in Corpus Christi, Texas, or in Sacramento, California?"

I didn't dignify him with an answer. I started up the stairs to go study in my bedroom, but felt like something was following me. I turned and saw Greg, stretching his body, barely hanging onto the couch, with his head cocked so he could watch me walk up the stairs. Rather than look away after I caught him, he gave me a mischievous smile. I flipped him off and yelled over my shoulder, "Practice safe sex, go screw yourself."

I decided not to go out. I knew that if I did, I'd cheat and break my fast and I'd have to go back and confess and Father Byrne would burn my ass. I concentrated on my clinic cases and wrote up my reports and diagnosis. We didn't really go to clinic yet, we were given hypotheticals and asked to diagnose them. Most of them were rather easy, but every once in awhile Dr. Tollhouse would throw in a doozey. It was one o'clock in the morning when I heard the door close downstairs. I knew Mike had gone to Trenton for the weekend so I was surprised and curious as to why he had come home early. I grabbed my dirty tea cup and started down to rinse it and check up on Mike. I was surprised to see Greg draped across the couch, fully dress, his arm across his eyes.

"Greg?" I approached him cautiously.

He removed his arm and squinted, obviously sensitive to the light. I looked in his eyes and they were bright.

"Yeah?"

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

He jumped up and ran for the powder room. I heard him retching over and over. My question had been answered. I took my cup into the kitchen, rinsed it and then checked the cabinet for some Pepto Bismol. I grabbed a spoon and headed back to the living room where he was, once again, laying on the couch, still in his jacket and covering his eyes.

I walked back over to him, "Come on." I pulled on his arm, uncovering his eyes, but he refused to open them. Helping him sit up, I unzipped his jacket, took it off and threw it on the chair. The thermometer was broken so I had to rely on putting my hand to his forehead; he was burning up.

"We're taking you up to bed. Let's go." I pulled him off the sofa and he reluctantly climbed the stairs with me. When we got to his room I was surprised to see that he had stripped his bed before he went to work, but hadn't made it yet. "What happened to your sheets?"

"I threw up."

"_And you still went to work?"_

"You'll understand when you become a Resident. Unless you're sent home by your supervisor, you drag your sorry ass in any way you can."

I nodded, having heard that from several doctors and professors.

"Alright, where are your sheets?"

"Down in the wash."

"Don't you have an extra set?"

I have queen sheets in storage, but not twin. Just didn't have time to buy another set."

"Crap. What idiot only buys one set of sheets? Well, sit here. I'm going to go downstairs and see if I can do a quick hand wash of your sheets."

He nodded at me.

I went downstairs and as I passed the powder room took a whiff and gagged. I looked inside and saw that he had missed the toilet at some point, splattering against the wall and the little trash can. I went in and did a little cleaning, reserving the major work for later. I looked at his sheets and they were going to need more than I could do with just a quick spot clean. In fact, I could see that vomiting wasn't the only thing he was struggling with. I turned on the washer to hot and presoaked the sheets.

I went up to his room, but it was empty. I suspected that he had gone up to Mike's since Mike wasn't coming back until tomorrow. It was the perfect answer. He could sleep in there while I washed his sheets and then I could wash Mike's tomorrow before he got home, something I'm sure Mike would appreciate since he rarely did it himself.

He wasn't in Mike's room. I looked in the bathrooms and when I found that they were empty I started shaking my head and muttering, "No! No, no, no."

I opened the door to my bedroom and saw that the books had been pushed off to the other side of my bed, a pile of clothes, including boxers lay on the floor and a naked Greg House was in my bed fast asleep. I was so pissed I felt like hitting him. I went over to wake him, but saw the clothes, with the vomit and "tracks" on them, grabbed them up, took them to the washer and threw them in with the sheets.

I leaned against the counter in the kitchen contemplating what to do next. It wouldn't be very charitable to kick a sick man out of my bed because I wanted to be comfortable tonight. I remembered that I was supposed to do an act of charity as penance. I went back up and woke him.

"Come on Greg, we need to get some water in you so that you don't dehydrate and cause your fever to spike."

He turned over and looked at me like I was an alien species that had just informed him we wanted his balls for experiments. "Who lit the fuse on your tampon? For God's sake, can't you just let me sleep?"

"No, you're the one who brought this drama into my life, now, damn it, sit up or I'm going to make you get out of my bed."

"You want me out of your bed? Fine." He sat up and threw the covers off, revealing a nice package with curly brown hair framing it. I gasped and stepped back. As sick as he was, he managed a chuckle. "Most women don't have that reaction."

I clenched my jaw, "Get back under the covers, I just want you to take some Pepto Bismol and drink some water. I didn't need to see your shortcomings."

He thought about it, shrugged his shoulders and let me spoon feed him a couple of tablespoons of the pink liquid before he drank half a glass of water. I heard him gagging so I ran for my trash can. I put it under his chin just in time for most of the water to come up, gushing with a tremendous force into the trash can. His aim was accurate; I didn't notice vomit anywhere else.

"I'm going to get you some boxers and a t-shirt. I'd appreciate it if you would put them on; the thought of your naked body rubbing against my sheets makes my skin crawl."

"But, I like the feel of these sheets, soft and slippery. It's giving me a hard on just turning over."

I threw my hands up, "Oh God! You're so perverted. Everything gives you a hard on. I can't wait to wash my linens when this is over. Enjoy it tonight 'cause I'm moving you back into your room tomorrow. Understand?"

He nodded and then turned over, "Oh…there it goes again, yeah, baby, yeah. It feels soooo good!"

"Men like you are the reason women turn gay." I clucked and then charged out of the room to go get him some underwear. I brought them back in, but he was snoring. I laid them on the other side of the bed, gathered up my books, the pillow and made my way to the couch. I grabbed the afghan off the back and lay back.

My mind went back to what I had just seen. He looked different from my brother and Tom. The head of his dick was shaped differently. I wondered if he had been circumcised. I tried to think of something else, but my mind kept wandering back to the same thing over and over. His legs were so long and thin. I had seen naked men, but only a few that close and personal. I went to sleep dreaming of Greg House in the nude.

I was awaken by the sounds of someone retching into a toilet and realized right away that it must be Greg. I ran up the stairs and saw that the door was open; Greg was on the floor holding the toilet. His torso was wobbly, like he was about ready to faint. His legs fanned out to the side. At some point he had put on his t-shirt and boxers, both which appeared to be soiled.

He shook his head and put up a hand, "Don't come in."

"Don't be silly, you look like you're going to faint."

"No, it's not pretty."

"What? I cleaned up your vomit last night."

He winced, looking sad and childish, "It's not the vomit. I didn't make it in time. Could you bring me another pair of shorts?"

The realization of what he said hit me, "Oh! Sure."

I went in and got a pair of boxers and stopped to get him a wash cloth and towel. I heard a crash in the bathroom and saw him sprawled on the floor, trying to get up again.

"Greg, don't be an idiot, you need help." I walked over, looked in the bowl, winced and flushed the toilet. The fact that he was throwing up green bile meant he had nothing in his stomach to throw up. I started the shower while he sat with his back to the wall watching me. When the water reached a nice temperature, I pulled up on his t-shirt and threw it out the door. Bracing myself against the wall with one arm, I handed him my other arm. "Come on, get up and get in the shower, it's the easiest way for us to clean you up."

He was pale and his arm was shaking as I pulled him up. The new shower curtain was still closed so I pushed it back and motioned for him to take off his boxers. He frowned, looking deeply embarrassed. I found it slightly amusing and just a little sad that the mighty Gregory House was embarrassed. He pulled them down and off and I picked them up by the waistband,throwing them in the sink.

There he was again, naked in front of me. I could see he was slightly longer than Tom and my brother. I tried not to look, but there was something different about his dick. He must have seen my puzzlement because he rolled his eyes.

"It's uncircumcised. I was born in Italy."

I looked in his eyes and nodded, "Oh."

For some odd reason, he tried to back up and into the tub, but it was too awkward. He had no choice but to turn around to get in. When he did, I understood why. He had crap down his backside and hadn't wanted me to see. I felt so sorry for him. Once under the shower, I grabbed a washcloth, soaped it up and handed it to him. He washed himself, but there was a little residue. I was getting tired of this, so I grabbed the hand shower, pulled it down and aimed it at his crack until he was squeaky clean. He was quiet and humble.

When he got out, I helped him towel off. He leaned on me so that I could help him put on his shorts, one leg at a time. I almost cracked up. Bending over to get his leg in the shorts, his dick was dangling three inches in front of my face for almost a minute as we dressed him. This all felt like a French farce. I pulled the boxers up and when I was done, looked up into his blue eyes. He had obviously seen the humor in it as well because he burst out laughing. I joined in; it was a good release for both of us.

He put the t-shirt on himself and I took his clothes down to the laundry area. I decided to throw the boxers away. They didn't look as if they would come completely clean. I grabbed him some Seven-Up and went back upstairs.

"You need to get something into you."

He chortled, "You could say the same about you. But if you're talking food, not unless you want it all over your silky sheets."

Then it hit me; I wondered if he had gotten some bodily fluids on my sheets. As if he read my mind, he shook his head and sneered, "I didn't crap in your bed, at least not yet. Here, let me try some Seven-Up before I go back to sleep." He drank some of the Seven-Up and then took some more Pepto-Bismol, washing it down with more Seven-Up.

I put the Seven-Up on the night stand, "I better let them know at the hospital that they need to get someone to take your shift tonight."

"No! I'm going in."

I felt his forehead, "No, you're not. You still have a fever over 100 which means you're still contagious. I'm calling in for you."

He started to protest, but I did what I always do in the bar when someone is giving me some flak, I gave him the 'mother stare.' It's that look women have that says, 'don't mess with me unless you want your balls ripped from your body and fed to the dog.' He shut his mouth and shrugged his shoulders. Within minutes I checked back and he was asleep again. I called in and let them know he was still ill.

Mike got back around seven that night while I was at the grocery store. When I came back, he kept looking at me funny. He finally asked, "Maggie? Are you sleeping with Greg now?"

I coughed and sputtered, "No! Oh, no! He's sick and his sheets had vomit on them. I let him sleep in my bed while I made his."

"Well, his bed is made, why is he still in yours?"

"I just made it before I went to the store. When he wakes up, I'll switch him over."

"Why didn't you just put him in my bed?"

I smiled painfully, "Long story.'

"Well, I've got a midterm tomorrow morning, so I'm going to call it an early evening. G'night."

"Night Mike."

I finished up my own homework and was sitting down on the sofa, watching television when I saw two long legs coming down the stairs. He turned and looked around.

I held my hands up to my face in stage horror, "He's alive! Alive I tell you! Where's the torch?"

He snickered, "Ha, ha. I've been wondering who Fishtown's 'Village Idiot' was…didn't realize I was living with her."

He shuffled over, looking back at the television. I was watching _The Empire Strikes Back_. He sat down on the couch, pulled part of the afghan up over his shoulders and then scooted next to me. I could feel that he still had a fever, but it had broken and wasn't as high. I felt odd, sitting this close to a man who wasn't Tom or Jack. But I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of seeming like a Mary Poppins, so I feigned boredom and continued to watch my movie. After five minutes, his head was leaning on my shoulder and he was snoring.

Mike came down the stairs and looked at us on the couch. I didn't know how I could explain this to him. I whispered loudly, "It's not what you think. He's sick; he just came down and fell asleep."

Mike had a smug look on his face, nodded and continued into the kitchen, reappeared with a glass and went back to bed. I was sure that this was going to come back to bite me, but surprisingly, Mike kept his mouth shut.


	3. Chapter 3 part 1Halloween

**Chapter 3 – Part 1**

**Halloween**

House made it back to work the next night, getting home at 8:30 the following morning. The television was on, but no one was watching it. He walked into the kitchen to grab something to eat and found it devoid of humans too. After eating some semi-stale cereal, he went upstairs to get some sleep and heard someone in the bathroom throwing up. His teeth needed a good brushing, so he knocked on the door.

"You going to be in there for awhile? I need to brush my teeth and get some shuteye."

He heard a moan. Opening the door slightly, he saw Maggie on the floor kneeling over the toilet. She looked up, miserable and exhausted. Giving her a quick once over, he grabbed his toothbrush, toothpaste and closed the door, high-tailing it downstairs to brush his teeth. Finishing up, he went to bed and slept like a baby. When evening rolled around, he was downstairs on the couch, watching some television before going to work. He saw her making her way down the stairs, slowly, deliberately. She was holding onto the rail with both hands, delicately easing her foot from one step to the next. Shuffling through the living room, Maggie went into the kitchen. He could hear her open the refrigerator and then close it. She came out to the living room and looked down on him. "Did you drink all of the Seven-Up?"

"Yep."

"Could you go get me some?" Her voice was hoarse and her eyes bright with fever.

"Sorry, I have to go to work in an hour."

"Just go down to the corner store. It'll take you ten minutes."

"But I'll miss McEnroe…he's slammin' it."

Her mouth dropped open in shock, her body shivering. Turning towards the stairs, she shuffled off and up to her room.He watched her slink back to her room, then thought about going to the store for her, but McEnroe just served a hot one and House was engrossed back in the match. The next morning he stopped on his way home and bought her a six pack of Seven-Up, drinking one as he walked from the car to the house. After putting the soda in the refrigerator, he made his way to her room where he found a woman and Jack standing around her bed. Maggie was dead asleep, her lips chapped, her eyes surrounded by black circles. The room smelled of vomit.

Jack nodded, "Hey Greg."

Holding up a can of pop, House motioned to Maggie, "How is she? I bought her some Seven-Up, do you think she'd like one?"

Jack smiled, "That was nice of you. She called me and asked me to pick her up some. Theresa is going to stay and help, but I have to get going." He patted Greg's arm and made his way downstairs.

House went to bed.

XXXXXXXXX

"Any parties worth going to?" House asked. He had Halloween off and wanted to kick back a little. Work hadn't been going well; half the staff was pissed off at him, as usual.

Michael shrugged his shoulders and nodded, "Yeah, the party at Tony's Warehouse should be good. It was last year."

House put his feet up while Michael changed the channels, "Are you going?"

Michael took a drink of his beer and rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand, "Nah, I'm gonna cruise the bars and then go down to Cavanaugh's for Halloween to watch the ATM board."

House looked at him, "You watch an ATM on Halloween for fun?"

Michael smiled, "The ATM _board_."

House shook his head, "I don't get it."

"The Apologize to Maggie Board."

House scrunched up his forehead, "What?"

"Every Halloween we go down to the bar and wait for the drunks to harass Maggie. We bet on who's first to go on the board, who's next, and so on."

"The board? Why do they harass Maggie?"

"Come along, you'll see."

Halloween night was on a Tuesday. It turned out to be a warmer than normal October night in Philly. House bounced down the stairs, catching up with Michael who was wearing a Nixon mask and a suit.

He held up two fingers on both hands and shook his head "I am not a crook!" He looked House up and down, "What's that supposed to be?"

"A doctor, I'm a doctor."

Michael looked at House, dressed in his lab coat with a stethoscope around his neck, and shook his head, "Lame, really lame. Well, let's go."

After hitting a few Irish bars in the area, they drove over to Cavenaugh's which looked unimpressive from the outside and equally unimpressive on the inside. It smelled of Guinness and French fries. But, it was busy with mostly young men in costume drinking and talking in loud voices. Several women were scattered throughout the bar, also dressed in costumes. The bar itself was long with twenty bar stools. Along the far side were six booths and in the middle of the establishment were eight tables. Shamrocks in various forms adorned the bar and walls along with plaques and posters of famous Irishmen and the obligatory neon signs advertising different beers. House and Michael joined a table with two other single guys who already had a couple of whiskeys in front of them. House looked around and saw the board. It was a chalk board which simply said at the top, "ATM". It had two columns, "Name" and "Date." The slate was blank.

Michael asked House what he wanted to drink then went over to the bar where Mac, the bartender, took his order. House looked around at all the people in costumes, noting that some of the young guys were well on their way to being drunk. Judging by the number of empty glasses in front of them, they had been at the bar all night. It was only then that he saw her. It was Maggie, dressed in a green fairy costume, serving drinks at a table across the room. It was an incredibly short, flimsy dress that barely skimmed the top of her thighs. Underneath was a pair of lacy panties that matched the costume. Sewn to the back of the dress were small mesh wings that sparkled. Maggie looked incredibly sexy in the skimpy outfit that draped down in front, showing off most of her breasts when she bent over. House now understood why the bar was packed with young male patrons.

Michael brought the drinks over, handing House a beer. He turned to his friends, "Where's Mags?"

House and the other two guys pointed towards Maggie. Michael looked over and shook his head, "Hard to believe she's our Mags, isn't it Greg?"

House smiled and nodded.

Michael sat down, "Any leads on who's the first up?"

The guy named Kevin pointed in the direction of a young, ruddy faced man with two empty pints in front of him. The guy was watching Maggie like a hawk and smiling. "My money's on him."

Michael squinted and shook his head, "He's a looker, he might do it, but he won't be the first."

Colin smiled and nodded behind House, "What about that guy?"

Michael and House turned and looked. Behind them was an animated, young, very drunk male who kept jumping up, talking animatedly to his friends. Michael turned back, grinned and nodded, "Who's taking the bets?"

"Kyle."

Michael went over to the end of the bar and handed money to a man, received a marker and came back to the table.

House, frustrated, slammed his hand down, "Will someone tell me what we're betting on?"

"Every Halloween and St. Patrick's Day, Jack makes Maggie wear a costume and work the bar. Every year, three or four guys try to take advantage of the short dress and low cut top. You see the two twins at the other end of the bar? Anyone who mauls Maggie gets hauled out to the alley and reminded of their manners. After a few well aimed blows, they get to leave, but their name goes up on the board and they get one week to come back and apologize to Maggie. If she accepts the apology, she erases their name. If they don't apologize or Maggie thinks the apology is weak, they don't get back in the bar, ever."

"How much are the bets?"House asked.

"Ten bucks a pop. See Kyle, the one at the end of the bar, to place them."

Surveying the bar for a bet, House knocked back several Bushmills as he looked around. Then he spotted the guy, a burly man sitting with a group of other burly men. They were boisterous and laughing almost as much as they were drinking. One guy kept making gestures about breasts. But he wasn't the one that caught House's eye. It was his friend who was sullen, drunk, wearing a t-shirt that had the local roofer's union logo. The silent roofer would occasionally look up only when Maggie approached. There was something about his look that told House he was not just drunk, but a predator. House got up and went to the bar, took out a twenty and placed his bet on the guy. He received his marker, walking back to the table with confidence. After the beer and Bushmills, House himself was feeling no pain.

Twenty minutes later, Maggie was cleaning the table behind the burly men, who were all looking at her ass and smiling, making comments. Maggie flipped them off, but continued to clean the table until the sullen roofer stuck his hand between Maggie's legs as she bent over. The twins jumped up as Maggie turned around, her fist flying across the cheek and nose of the guy with his hand up her crotch. The blow brought some blood from the man's nose.

A collective, "Oh!" went up from the crowd, followed by a laugh. The twins picked the guy up under his arms and within seconds he was whisked out the back where House assumed the guy would soon be taught a lesson at the hands of the broad shouldered twins. Kyle left his perch at the bar and went over to the blackboard, put down the name, "Cory Sullivan, October 31st."

House smiled at the guys sitting at the table, stood up and went over to Kyle who peeled off 200 dollars. House pointed out another guy and gave Kyle another 20. When he took his seat, Michael patted House on the back.

"Tradition says you buy drinks for your table if you win."

House smirked, "Like hell!" But he relented and motioned to Maggie. She frowned when she saw House calling her over.

"Yeah?"

He waved a hand, "Drinks for my friends."

"Well, that should be easy, since you don't have any."

Michael snorted, "Mags, he means us. I want a Bushmills."

The other two order Bushmills too.

House smiled, "Bushmills all around. By the way, nice outfit. Could you bend over and tie my shoe for me?"

A snarl curled up from her lips as she went back to the bar.

Michael cautioned, "Careful, you don't always have to touch Maggie to get on the board. Frankly, she's not really fond of you, not since you refused to get her the Seven-Up after she cleaned the shit off you."

House was taken back, "She told you?"

"I got an earful when I helped her back to bed the night you left her on the bathroom floor."

House shrugged his shoulder, "She didn't ask for help."

Michael shifted in his seat, slammed back the last of his whiskey, "Jesus Greg, she was laying on the floor looking miserable. You're the doctor, why didn't you take care of her? She took care of you."

"I didn't ask her to."

Michael laughed out loud. "You're a cold bastard aren't you?"

Maggie came to the table and bent over to serve the drinks, causing House to leer at the show.

"12.00."

House pulled out a twenty, "Maggie, if you bend over again, a little further, I'll let you keep the change."

"Fuck you." She grabbed the twenty, turned and looked at the twins.

Michael intervened, "Oh Mags, don't call the twins over, he's my ride. Let him stay."

She thought for a second, "Well, you put a muzzle on him." Glaring at House, Maggie didn't give him change and went back to serving the patrons.

Jack came over for a few minutes, sat down with House and Michael to watch the crowd, "They seem to be behaving tonight. The ATM is pretty empty."

Michael nodded, "This group knows better, they're afraid of Maggie."

House smirked, "What's there to be afraid of? She's a tiny redheaded lightweight."

The guys all laughed at House. Jack leaned forward, "Let me tell you about that tiny redhead. When I was sixteen and Maggie was ten, I was getting my ass pummeled in front of the movie theater for doing something I shouldn't have done. Let's just say, these guys had waited a long time to get me alone. The only thing was, I wasn't alone. I was waiting outside the theater for Maggie who was taking a pee before we went home. When the four of them cornered me, I tried fighting them off, but the odds were on their side. Just when I was about to get a kick to the head, I see this scrawny body slam against the leg of the guy about to kick me. She bit Daniel Monahan so hard there was blood. He slammed his hand up against the side of her head and shook her off. I guess the pain was so bad he went after Maggie to teach her a lesson. She got up and ran like hell, two of the guys ran after her.

I managed to get up and knock down the two that had stayed behind, but I was desperate to get to her to protect her, so I ran like hell to catch up. It must have looked strange, three burly teenagers running after a scrawny redheaded ten year old girl. When I caught up, the two guys were standing on either side of Mags. She had this wild look on her face. Her eyes were blue, a deep blue, her face bright red, her hair flying. She had her fists up like a boxer and she was screaming at me, "Run Jack, I've got these guys!" Well, even teenagers could see how absurd this was. We all started laughing. Maggie was miffed because we weren't taking her seriously, but it stopped the fight. Daniel, the ring leader, told me, 'You're off the hook for now Jack, but no more stealin' off our trucks.' As he walked away he turned back, 'And Jack, don't be surprised if in ten years I come back to ask for your sister's hand.'"

House looked appreciatively at Maggie; he could see her with her tiny fists raised. "Did he come back?"

"Not yet, but whenever he sees Maggie he gives her somethin' nice."

Half an hour later, Maggie was near a group of jocks from the University of Pennsylvania. She was cleaning off the empty beer bottles when a roar went up through the crowd. One of the guys had pulled Maggie onto his lap and was trying to fondle her breasts. The crowd cleared to let the twins get by, but before they reached her, Maggie took the neck of a bottle, broke the bottom and held it under the drunk's neck. The young man's eyes were wide, his neck stretched back and he was shaking in his boots. House was impressed, they were afraid of Maggie.

She cocked her head, "This is your second time in less than a year, Joseph. You're going on the board, but if you even _look_ my way again, you'll not only stay on the board, there won't be anything left for the twins to take back to the alley, understand?"

There was a collective, "Ewwwww!" The guy nodded, his eyes as big as saucers, Maggie getting up from his lap. The twins picked him up and exited the bar. Maggie went into the kitchen to clean up some of the empty glasses for the bar. She was concentrating on cleaning when she felt two arms reach around her waist and lips brush against her neck. She turned sharply and looked up into House's eyes.

"Greg, what the hell?" She pushed him back, "Do you want to end up with a black eye and some broken ribs?"

"Mags, why don't we go home to that soft bed of yours so you can sprinkle me with fairy dust."

"Christ, another instant idiot. Just add alcohol. Get the fuck out of here before I sprinkle you with napalm."

He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her again, grabbing the back of her hair with his hand and aiming for her reddish pink lips, his mouth open, tongue poised for entry. She tried desperately to squirm away, but his lips were on hers. He kissed her with his open mouth, noting that she wasn't returning it. He pulled back.

"Come on Mags, just one delicious kiss from the fairy."

"Greg, you're drunk. You taste like the inside of a whiskey barrel. You need to have Michael or someone sober drive you home."

He smiled and leaned in again, grabbing her ass and pulling her into him. She pounded on his chest and shook her head.

"For God's sakes Greg, you're nine years older than me. Can't you find someone closer to your age to maul?"

He chuckled, "Sure, but where's the fun in that? You're just down the hall."

"Not for long. You keep holding me like this and I'm going to get me a new roommate and you're going to get a new asshole."

House heard the heavy footsteps behind him and felt two sets of hands under his arms. He looked around into the double set of eyes and smiled.

Maggie sighed, "Boys, just put him out on the curb."

The twins nodded, "Name on the Board?"

"Oh yeah."

House managed to get one arm loose. He lunged forward and copped a feel. Maggie jumped back and swatted his hand, "Oh!" she cried out.

He laughed, "I figure if I was going to get chucked, might as well get chucked for something worthwhile."

At 2 am, Maggie locked the door to the bar and finished cleaning up. Being Jack Malone's sister had afforded Maggie a certain sense of safety in the neighborhood. She thought nothing of getting on her bike and pedaling across town at 2 am. Her brother had bought her a car, but within a week it had been stolen. The thief was found beaten pretty badly by someone and the car mysteriously turned up in front of her house two weeks later, clean and polished with a note of apology, but Maggie was already convinced the car was an unnecessary convenience. She sold it to pay for her last year of undergrad textbooks and expenses. Her brother was furious, for about two seconds. He had a soft spot for his sister, always had. It only took one of her special smiles and he couldn't stay angry.

Maggie reached the house and locked up her bike on the side of the house. She went inside and found Greg House passed out, snoring loudly on the couch, his shoes on the couch. She knew she should never have rented to men, they were such pigs around the house. She slapped him upside the head. House moaned and turned over. Maggie gasped and then chuckled. House had a huge black eye. Obviously, the twins thought that coping a feel was worthy of some punishment.

He snarled up at her.

"Was it worth it?" she asked.

"No."

"I didn't think so. Now get your drunk ass up the stairs and get to bed."

The next morning Maggie cringed when House came down the stairs to get an aspirin. She had just returned in between classes to eat lunch and was making sandwiches. The black eye looked mean and painful. House, grumpy and hung over, was dressed in long pajama bottoms that hung slightly below his waist revealing the beginning of the patch of hair that started at his belly button and disappeared below the band of the pajama bottoms. Maggie found herself staring, remembering.

House woke up enough to notice that Maggie was staring at his groin. "Look, if I can't feel you up, then you can't imagine me naked in your mind."

Maggie turned bright red, "Want a Hoagie?"

"Yeah. Any coffee?"

She shook her head, "I haven't made any."

"Crap." He went over and started a pot of coffee while Maggie made Hoagies.

"Greg. We need to talk about your behavior."

House started laughing. "You sound like a kindergarten teacher."

"You acted like a Kindergarten student. You can't keep grabbing me, touching me, or saying sexual things that imply we've had or will have sex. I'm engaged, this is my neighborhood, my family, my friends. I can't have them thinking that you and I are doing something behind Tom's back. So, either start behaving or I'm going to kick you out. Understand?"

He started laughing, but after seeing the look in her eyes, deciding quickly that she wasn't kidding. "Oh Christ, you're not joking. Maggie, you may have a sweet ass and great legs, but you're not my type. I like them taller, dumber and decadent. You spend too much time at church for me. I have better things to do with my Sunday mornings. In fact, if you like, I could show you."

She rolled her eyes. "As long as you understand me." She handed him his hoagie, grabbing hers as she pulled off a paper towel for a napkin, "Oh and I go to Mass on Saturday at 6 pm, not Sunday. And you're not my type either. You're too old, too crass and too full of shit. I would know; I cleaned enough of it off of you."

House smiled to himself as she left, keeping an eye on her ass as it walked sassily out of the kitchen.


	4. Chapter 3 Part 2 Halloween

**Chapter 3 – Part 2**

**Halloween**

House frequently found people in the house when he got home. Maggie seemed to be popular with her friends, cousins and family. He particularly liked it when her cousin Meghan came over. Meghan was three years older than Maggie and a real flirt. Maggie's hair was more of a strawberry blonde while Meghan's was auburn. You could tell Maggie and Meggie shared the same genes; Meggie was taller, but not quite as pretty as Maggie. However, Meggie knew how to make a guy feel like he was the only person in the room whereas Maggie would as soon as kick a guy out of the room.

"I don't know why, but she likes you. You ought to call her and take her out. She thinks you're hot." Maggie was at the table doing some homework while House was scrounging for something to eat.

He hedged around, "Maybe I could take her to Cavanaughs."

"You can't go to Cavanaughs, you didn't apologize to me in time. You're permanently banned."

"You're going to keep your cousin out of Cavanaughs?"

Maggie looked up, her eyes a light blue from the color of her t-shirt, "If she's with you, yeah. She knows the rules."

He started chuckling and then laughing, "I can't believe you'd kick your cousin out because I forgot to apologize within the week. What if I make it up to you now?"

Maggie furred her brow and frowned, "What and let me do your laundry or let me have the honor of paying your phone bill?"

"I was thinking of taking you to the Resident's Christmas Party at the beginning of December."

She shook her head, "Take Meggie. She likes that kind of thing and she's not engaged."

He came over and sat down next to her, "Oh, come on. It wouldn't hurt for you to get to know the people who'll be ruining your life over the next three years. I don't want to take Meggie because I'd be thinking of nailing her all night. I need to keep my wits and network while I'm there. With you there I'd have the best of both worlds. I'll have a nice Catholic girl on my arm and I'll be able to concentrate on the people around me."

Her mouth dropped, "You don't have to insult me. I know you think it's funny to insinuate that I'm not sexy, but it isn't. Ask Meggie to go."

House pulled back, "What? Insult you? I thought you'd like being called a nice Catholic girl."

"Normally I would, but the way you say it, it's like I'm the Virgin Mary. I assure you, I'm not a Virgin." She said it quite gleefully until she realized how sordid it sounded, "Well, I'm not a prude is what I mean."

"I'm not buying it, but I'm willing to give you an opportunity to prove it."

She was about to say something, but shut her mouth and went back to her work.

He chuckled and left.

House invited Meggie out for a date, finding after a few dates that Meggie's apartment was a nice haven away from the judgmental eyes of Maggie Malone. Whenever he had a night off, he found comfort in the willing body of Meggie Kerry. Occasionally, when he was in the throes of a spectacular orgasm, he'd look down and see the features in Meggie that reminded him of Maggie. Oddly, it made him feel as if he was cheating on her, but it certainly didn't stop the warm and fuzzy feelings he had for Meggie's delicious body.

House finished his forty-eight hour shift, headed home and was looking forward to some sleep when he realized it was Thanksgiving Day. Looking at the clock as he entered through the front door, he was surprised that he didn't hear noises in the house. It was ten am and Maggie was usually an early riser. He realized that Michael must have gone home for the holidays and Maggie must be with her family. In a way, House was glad, it meant he could get some sleep and then watch whatever he wanted to watch on tv. Walking down the hall to the bathroom, House saw that Maggie's door was closed, not unusual if she was gone. After doing his business, he opened the bathroom door only to find a man, in boxers, heading down the hall towards him and the bathroom.

"Morning." The blonde guy said as he slipped by House into the bathroom.

House, perplexed, simply mumbled, "Morning." He started to make his way to his room when he noticed Maggie's door was open. He looked in. A smile crossed his face when he saw Maggie, laying naked on her stomach, eyes closed. The blanket was pulled up just over most of her sweet little ass. He could see the curve of the small of her back and the curve of her breast from the side. He couldn't help but think she was the sexiest nymph he had seen in a long time. House took in a sharp breath, causing Maggie to look up. Raising up slightly to look, she unwittingly gave him a better view of the side of her breast. She saw House, grabbed the blanket and pulled it up over her back, hiding her body.

He smiled like a devil, "Good morning Maggie. Who's your friend?"

She frowned, "Get out of here." He leaned on the door jamb waiting for an answer to his question. "For God's sakes, it's Tom. He's here for Thanksgiving."

"Well, it looks like he has a lot to be thankful for. I can see he's stuffed your turkey."

Maggie threw a pillow at House, "Get the fuck out of here before I throw something more substantial…like your ass out the door."

House chuckled, "Happy Thanksgiving Mags." He turned and went to his room, closing and locking it. When he got under the sheets, he reached inside his shorts and started taking care of business, visions of Maggie burned into his mind.

Later that evening, House woke up to a quiet house. The engaged couple was obviously out for the evening. He made his way to the kitchen, noticing the sign on the refrigerator in Maggie's handwriting, "Happy Thanksgiving, Greg. Look inside." He opened the door to the frig and saw two huge plates, each with instructions. "Heat this for four minutes in the microwave." The second one, "Heat this one minute in the microwave, pumpkin pie is on the counter." House smiled, Tom was here with her, but she was still thinking of him.

Sunday, House got home from his shift and found Tom getting ready to go to the airport. Having spent several hours talking to him over the weekend, House realized Tom was a decent enough guy and apparently loved Maggie. He was pretty sure it would piss Tom off if he knew House was beating off to visions of his fiancé. The couple amused House, they were apparently using every free minute of the weekend to screw because House found condom wrappers all over the house, in various trashcans. He was not only amused, but just a little bit jealous.


	5. Chapter 4 Part 1 Heart & Soul

**Chapter 4**

**Heart and Soul**

Greg and I sat down at the table and were about ready to tuck into a pizza we had ordered. For the last hour we had debated God, the Catholic Church, the Irish race, the IRA and the English.

After an somewhat heated diatribe about His Holiness, he laughed at me, "Your ridiculous little opinion has been noted."

"Don't you believe in anything?"

"I'm a Frisbeeterian - When I die, my soul goes up on the roof and gets stuck there."

"I wouldn't want to see you working with sub-atomic particles."

"You know in your heart that Catholicism is just Italian voodoo."

"Well, if you believe you can tell me what to think, I believe I can tell you where to go."

He gave me a devilish smile and blew me a kiss.

I wasn't sure that I even wanted to be in the same room with him, let alone share the pizza. But he didn't seem to care. We had had been so loud that Michael had come down grabbed his jacket and left with his books claiming he couldn't study with us screaming.

Opening the refrigerator, Greg turned to me, "Beer?"

I slapped my head, he had the audacity to say it as if he hadn't called me a fucking moron just two minutes before.

"I can't believe you. You just called me a stupid Mick, an ignorant Mackerel and a fucking moron! How can you act so pleasant? I hate you right now."

"You don't hate me. Beer?"

I stuck out my tongue. He laughed at me.

"Mags, I'm the perfect man for you-- not easily scared by women with large mouths." He wiggled his eyebrows, "In fact, it's one of your best attributes…if you get my drift."

"Don't get too enamored. I like my men like I like my coffee, ground up and in the freezer."

He laughed, "You may be a stupid, fucking, moronic Mick, but you're fun to fight with."

My mouth was full of pizza, "Fouck ouuu, egg."

"Maggie, if I thought you meant it, I'd let you."

I couldn't help it, I chuckled. He smiled, knowing he got to me. The top of his beer popped off under the opener, foam bubbled and Greg quickly put his mouth over the bottle to stop it. I looked at him, leaning up against the counter, his long legs stretched out at forty-five degrees in front of him. His face was smooth and handsome, eyes a piercing blue. His whole body was long and lanky. My nipples started to tingle and I felt myself turn bright red.

"What are you blushing about?"

I swallowed my pizza and shook my head, "I wasn't blushing, I almost gagged on the pizza."

He wasn't sure whether he believed me or not. He narrowed his eyes and after a few seconds took another drink. "I'm taking Meggie to the Christmas party."

I sighed, "Better her than me."

He walked over and sat down. "How's med school?"

I shrugged, "I had to tell Jack that I could only work two nights a week, he wasn't happy. I got the first C of my life on an exam. I'm exhausted. Today was the first day that I've taken off for myself in months."

Greg shrugged and shook his head, "While you're in med school, you really need to take time out for yourself. You're going to have to learn to relax or your grades will go in the trash. Are you studying at night?"

"Greg, you know I work at night. No, I study at school during the day and before I go to work."

"You need to study at night. Your mind stores information at night while you sleep. You'll do better."

"Really?"

He nodded, "What class did you get the C in?"

I couldn't look him in the eye, I was ashamed. There was no real reason for me to have screwed up so badly, "Pharmacology." I sighed, "I don't understand how it happened, it's one of my favorite subjects. I love biochemistry."

"You're on overload. Come over to the hospital during my shift and I'll give you some pointers."

"I don't want to take time away from your work."

"It slows down around 7:00 pm. Why don't you come over around 7:30 pm?"

I reluctantly agreed. I really didn't want to spend more time with Greg than I had to. Most of the time Greg was tolerable, but on more than the odd occasion, he was an egotistical, narcissistic asshole.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Friday, I worked a double shift at the bar, rushing home just after my classes ended at 2:00 pm. I was dead on my feet, but grateful that I was going to have Saturday and Sunday off to relax and study a little. I had started studying mostly at night, finding that Greg was right; I was retaining more of what I studied.

Saturday, I went Christmas shopping with Theresa. We had a good time, lunching downtown and shopping until I thought my feet would drop off. I got home and put my bags in my room. Kicking off my shoes, I started to go downstairs. I could smell Polo and realized that it was Saturday night, the night of Greg's Residents' Christmas party. I smiled, wondering what Meggie was going to wear. We always called each other whenever we were going somewhere that required we dress up. I called her, hoping I wasn't catching her in the middle of getting dressed.

The phone rang several times. It was picked up on the fifth ring, "Hello?"

She sounded groggy.

"Hey Megs, it's Mags. Just wondering what you were going to wear tonight to the big dance?"

"Ah shit, what time is it?"

This wasn't good, she sounded stressed, "It's 6:15."

"Oh Maggie! You better put Greg on."

I had a bad feeling, "What's wrong?"

"I've had the worst toothache all day. I took a painkiller Paul gave me, I've been sleeping, trying to get rid of the pain, but it still hurts like hell."

"Oh my God, Greg's in the bathroom getting ready. When was he going to pick you up?"

"7:30. Maggie, he's going to be upset. He paid 200 for these tickets, made reservations at that new restaurant, plus he had to rent the tux. It cost him a fucking fortune."

"I better get him."

"I know Mags, you go! You go with him!"

"Oh, no, no, no, no."

She started crying, "He's going to be upset that I can't go. The only thing worse will be if he doesn't have a date at all."

"Megs, he _hates me."_

She stopped crying, "No he doesn't. He told me that he's never seen anyone as hardworking as you. He thinks you're an idiot for being a practicing Catholic, but he has a certain respect for it. Mainly, because you don't flinch when someone attacks you for it. Mags, he likes you -- a lot."

I didn't really believe her. But I knew she was right about one thing, he'd be more pissed if he had spent all this money and could take no one. I remembered that he had originally asked me to go so he could ignore me and network. I felt sorry for Meggie, she sounded so miserable.

"Okay. But he's going to be disappointed I'm not you."

She sniffed, "Tell him that I'll make it up to him."

"Okay."

I ran upstairs and saw that the bathroom was free. I jumped in, ran the shower and was in and out in less than five minutes. Greg was in his room with the music turned up, getting ready. I blew my hair dry and pinned it up, letting two ringlets fall at my temples. After applying the requisite makeup I walked to my closet like a gunslinger ready to take down the enemy. I soon realized I had no bullets. I had very few things that could be worn to something as nice as a Residents' Christmas Party where the men were supposed to wear a tux. I studied my high school prom dress and two bridesmaid's dresses that hung in my closet. All three were boring and prudish, hardly a dress that you would wear on the arms of a thirty year old physician. I felt defeated, choosing the pink puffy sleeved bridesmaid dress as the lesser of three evils. A knock on my front door caught my attention. I wrapped myself up in a robe and went downstairs, looked through the peephole and saw Theresa with a dress bag. I opened the door.

"Meggie said I had to bring you something to wear right this minute. She said you had to look like a thirty year old. Maggie, nothing is going to make _you_ look like a thirty year old. But this might make you look twenty-five. It's my little sister's. She undid the zipper on the dress bag, revealing a deep red strapless gown with a ruffle that ran around the edge and up the back, creating a bustle-like feature. It was silk and it came to just below the knee. It was gorgeous and hip.

We ran upstairs and I immediately put on black pantyhose, a taffeta petite coat and my black strapless bra. I stepped into and pulled the dress up. It was a good fit, although a little too tight around the bust, pushing my breasts up above the corseted bodice like marshmallows. Looking in the mirror, I was both mesmerized and frantic.

"I can't wear this; my breasts are about to pop out!"

Theresa laughed, "That's why you _have _to wear it. Everyone will be so busy looking at your breasts, they aren't going to notice how young you are! You look gorgeous. But you need red lipstick and these." She handed me long black gloves and a black velvet collar necklace with a phony diamond that dangled next to my throat. I had some dangling crystal earrings which went well with the choker.

Once dressed, I looked in the mirror and was embarrassed. I looked more mature than I'd ever looked before, more sophisticated, definitely sexier, but I felt like a fraud. I couldn't be the sexy woman I saw reflected back. I slipped on the black three inch sandals and Theresa applied the red lipstick.

Theresa shook her head, adopting a serious tone, "Maggie, you look stunning. I'm not joking. You are absolutely gorgeous."

I heard Greg's bedroom door open and close, so I grabbed my purse and ran out the door, down the stairs, catching Greg putting on his coat and gloves. He turned and I drew in a breath, he was so strikingly handsome in his tuxedo I couldn't stop staring. He looked just as shocked, staring at me as if I had just landed on earth in my shuttlecraft.

"Maggie? Where are you going? You look…"

I could tell he was going to say I looked beautiful, but he held his tongue, not wanting to compliment me so directly.

"You look like a Barbie doll playing grown up."

I was frustrated and hurt, "Why don't you just say something nice for once?"

He nodded, his face relaxed, "You look beautiful."

"Thank you. You look handsome in your tux."

He smiled, "I have to go. I have to pick up Meggie in a few minutes. Do you think she'll like this? Or is it too hokey?"

I looked at the wrist corsage with three miniature roses, "She'd love it, but I'm afraid I'm your date. I know I'm a sorry excuse for Meggie, but she has a toothache and asked me to take her place."

He scrunched up his face, "_Fuck! _Really?"

Theresa, who had followed me down nodded, "I just talked to her thirty minutes ago, she's in horrible pain."

House closed his eyes and smirked, "Great. I paid a fortune for these tickets."

Theresa sounded mystified, "Greg, didn't you hear Maggie? She's going to go with you."

House looked at me and I could tell he was disappointed, shaking his head and sighing. I felt like crap and rather stupid. Here I thought I looked hot and would make him proud, but he was clearly not happy that I was a substitute for Meggie. I was humiliated. I ran up the stairs.

I could hear Theresa yell at him, "What's wrong with you? You're such a jerk." She yelled up the stairs, "Mags, I'll talk to you tomorrow, I have to go get ready for my office party."

The front door opened and closed. I was sitting on the bed, bending over taking my shoes off, when the door to my bedroom opened. Greg stood in his coat staring at me. My breasts were barely in the dress. My anatomy had his undivided attention. When he continued to gawk and failed to say anything, I sat up. He immediately came to his senses and walked over.

Putting out his hand, Greg said, "Maggie, would you do me the honor of going with me to the party tonight?"

I had tears on my cheeks; my voice came out as a whisper, "I'm obviously a disappointment to you."

He swallowed hard and sat down next to me, "Mags, you're engaged. Do you know how hard it is to sit next to a beautiful, sexy woman and realize she belongs to someone else? That she's not going to go home with you? By home, I mean to bed."

"I know what you mean." I reached down again to start unbuckling my shoe strap, "We just thought it would be nice for you to still have company. I didn't think about it putting a damper on your fun. I really am sorry. Go ahead and enjoy yourself. I hope some beautiful, sexy woman comes home with you."

"She will, because she lives here. Now, please don't make me beg for you to come with me." He reached over and took my hand in his and smiled at me.

I thought about it and realized he was sincere. I buckled my shoe back up and stood up. My breasts came right to his eye level as he sat on the bed. He stared at them, smiled and shook his head in appreciation. "Damn Maggie, this isn't going to be easy you know."

"I take it that's as close to a compliment as I'll get tonight. Let's go."

He stood up, put an arm out and I hooked mine into it.


	6. Chapter 4 Part 2 Heart & Soul

**Chapter 4 Part 2**

We arrived at the restaurant and I saw a couple waving us over. It was a young man who looked like Armand Assanti with a very pretty brunette. We joined them at the table. The man got up as a courtesy.

"Dr. Vito Donatto and Dr. Connie Dillard. This is Maggie Malone. Maggie is a med student."

I reached over and shook their hands and then we all sat down. The waiter brought us the menus and asked for our drink order. Greg ordered a bottle of champagne. I told the waiter that water was fine. Greg laughed at me.

Vito leaned forward, "Are you related to Jack Malone?"

I stared at him, realizing that he must be Louis Donatto's brother. We studied each other. Both Greg and Connie looked at us as if we were in a showdown. "Yes, I'm Jack Malone's sister."

A sly smile broke out across his lips, "Gregory House, you've been holding out on me. You didn't tell me that you were dating the sister of Jack Malone."

House cocked his head, "I'm not. My date is sick, this is my landlady."

Vito looked at me and started laughing, "Jesus, now that's what I call a landlady. Beautiful and powerful."

I didn't like it when people lumped me in with Jack. "I'm not powerful."

"Maybe, but your brother is. He owns Northeast Philly."

"And your brother owns South Philly, or at least a portion of it."

Vito nodded.

"Now do you like being associated with your brother? The insinuation that you got where you are because you're Louie Donatto's brother?"

He smiled. "I know exactly what you're saying. What do you say we leave our brothers outside the door?"

"I already did."

Vito chuckled and nodded at Greg, "You know Maggie, I can't picture you with this guy. He's the devil incarnate."

"I keep telling Greg that Jesus loves him, it's the rest of us who think he's an ass."

House smirked, "I am an agent of Satan, but my duties are largely ceremonial."

We all laughed.

Vito looked at his menu, "I'm having the Prime Rib."

Our waiter brought the champagne and Greg went to pour me a glass, I put my hand over it. "I don't think so Greg."

"Have you ever had Dom Perignon, Maggie?"

"No."

He removed my hand, "Then it's about time you did." He poured me half a glass.

I took a sip, the bubbles tickling my nose. It was surprisingly good.

"It's nice."

He poured me another half a glass and I drank it down too.

By the time we got to the party, which featured an open bar and a band, I was feeling great, lively and frisky. We had our photos taken. Greg and I joked around as the photographer posed us. When the photo was taken I had just turned slightly to look up at Greg, laughing. He was looking down, laughing too. The lights flashed.

"You get two 5 x 7s for free. Want any wallets for your family? They should arrive just before Christmas. They make great Christmas presents. Wallets are only 18 dollars for eight."

We turned down the offer and let the next couple take our place. On the way into the ballroom, Greg asked me, "What was that at the restaurant about you and Vito?"

"Vito's brother has a slice of the Italian action in South Philly. My brother gets along with most of the mafia, but he and Louie aren't on speaking terms. Louie thinks my brother hijacked his truck full of Talisker and cigarettes. My brother denied it. So it's been a little tense lately."

"So, you admit it. Your brother is part of the Irish mafia!"

I wrinkled my nose and laughed, "Irish mafia? There is no such thing as the Irish mafia. Let's just say my brother has similar business interests and connections."

Greg rolled his eyes and we continued through the crowd until we found our table and took a seat. Vito and Connie were already at the table. Three other couples were introduced to me, but I quickly forgot their names. House went to the bar and brought me back a glass of champagne. He had a glass of whiskey.

"Oh Greg, you should get me a diet coke or something. I don't need any more champagne."

"Maggie the way you look tonight, you are champagne. Come on, let's dance."

We danced. Even though my feet were tired from my day of shopping, I danced almost every fast dance, if not with Greg, then with one of the other guys at the table. Greg went off for awhile to talk to various people. But he always came back when he saw me sitting at our table.

Finally, a slow dance came on and Greg held out his hand, "Shall we?"

We went to the floor and he put his arms around me. I was sweaty from all the fast dancing, but he didn't say anything, he just held me and danced. I had been drinking champagne and was feeling very tipsy. Greg kept making jokes and causing me to giggle. I was getting a little woosy on my feet.

"Greg, I'm a little dizzy, can we get out of here for a few minutes?"

He looked around, "Sure, this way."

We went out a side door and started strolling down a hall. He poked his head into a room and pulled me along. Turning on the light he dragged me over to a piano. He asked me, "Do you play?"

I was wobbly on my feet. I gave him a very strong nod, "Yes." I went over, sat at the piano and started playing.

He put his hands over his ears and cried out, "Oh for God's sake, not 'Heart and Soul'!"

I patted the bench, "Come on, play with me. Do you know it?"

Laughing, he said, "Yes, I know it."

"Good, then play with me."

He sat down and started playing the upper keys, adding additional melodies while I played the chords and sang, not very well. I looked over and he was laughing at me as I belted out in the wrong key:

_Heart and soul, I fell in love with you  
Heart and soul, the way a fool would do,  
Madly--  
Because you held me tight,  
And stole a kiss in the night._

_Oh! but your lips were thrilling, much too…thrilling  
Never before were mine so strangely willing_

But now I see, what one embrace can do  
Look at me, it's got me loving you  
Madly--  
That little kiss you stole,  
Held all my heart and soul.

He played a dramatic ending and then turned to me. I knew I was in trouble when all I could think of was how beautiful his eyes looked staring down. He was tentative, not bold at all. His hesitation gave me courage. I turned to make it easier for him to reach down with his lips. My eyes closed automatically as I saw his face bend down. I felt his breath on my lips and then his open mouth covering my slightly open mouth, his nose slid next to mine. His breath was warm as I let his tongue touch mine. His hand barely glanced over my breast. He pulled his mouth off of mine and over to my neck. Feeling his lips on my ear nibbling my earlobe, I let my hand slide down to his thigh and then up. It was a bold move for me, but I was feeling things in my body I hadn't felt before. I delicately searched for the zipper, feeling the bulge behind it. I drew in a breath as he continued down my neck to my shoulder, kissing and licking.

My hand rubbed lightly over the zipper, not sure what I should do next. I'd only been with one man in my life, Tom. Our first time had been rather quick, with him taking the lead and ignoring my furtive attempts to make it more pleasurable for both of us. Since then, sex was mostly something I did to make Tom happy. I could give myself orgasms, which I rarely did since it was a sin, but I had yet to get one from Tom. He had tried on occasion, but it just seemed like an awkward, last minute attempt to throw me a bone, not a genuine desire that I be satisfied. I always pretended to have an orgasm, but I never did. I was twenty-one; I figured there was plenty of time to figure sex out.

Greg pulled back and hesitated. I opened one eye and looked, he was staring at me. I opened the other eye, "Greg? Am I doing it right? Is something wrong?"

He kissed my forehead! _My forehead_?

"Come on, let's go back into the ballroom."

In my drunken fervor, I knew I had screwed up, "I did something wrong didn't I?"

He smiled sadly at me and shook his head, "No Maggie, you're perfect. But you're very drunk and I don't want the first time we make love to be because I got you drunk. When we do it, I want it to be because you made a sober decision."

My mouth dropped open in shock and disappointment. I wanted him. I wanted to feel him between my legs, inside of me, holding me. I wanted that wide cupid's mouth on mine, his breath mingled with my breath, taste his taste, drink in his smell…I wanted to absorb it all. I felt like someone had pulled the stopper out of the bathtub and all the excitement was draining out of me.

He chuckled and stood up. "Come on, Cinderella, let's get you home before the chariot turns back into a pumpkin."

We arrived home and by then, the full brunt of five glasses of champagne had taken its toll. Greg took my coat off and carried me up the stairs to my bedroom, throwing me onto the bed. He sat on the edge of the bed and took my shoes off, grabbed the blankets and rolled me up in them. He reached down, kissed my forehead, turned off the light and closed the door as he left.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I woke up with my head buried in my pillow. My mouth was dry, my head pounding and my body aching. I tried to untangle myself from the blankets, but was having difficulty. Finally managing to free myself, I duscivered that I was still dressed in my evening clothes, complete with earrings, gloves and petticoat. I got up, looked in the mirror and groaned. The makeup was now smeared into streaks making me look like a punk rocker. I took my clothes off, grabbed my robe and took a shower.

There's nothing worse in this world than making a fool of yourself when you're drunk, than remembering the next day that you did it. God hadn't been kind enough to get me drunk enough to forget that I threw myself at Greg last night and he had turned me down. Part of me was relieved that he had, another part disappointed that I wasn't attractive enough that he "couldn't resist." As ridiculous as it sounds, I thought it would be incredibly romantic to be with a man who just couldn't resist me, who wanted me just by being in the same room with me. I sighed as I looked at the scrubbed, hung-over, me in the bathroom mirror. I wrapped myself back in my robe and made my way down the stairs. I heard the television and knew that it was Greg; Michael had gone home for the weekend.

He looked up and smiled as I crossed the living room to get to the kitchen. I smiled briefly and kept moving. He picked up a book and dropped it on the floor, making a thundering clap. I jumped and grabbed my head.

"Mother fu…Greg! I'm dying here. Stop that!"

He chuckled, "So, you have a hangover?"

I was in the kitchen and he was following me. "Yes, I have a hangover and I need drugs--now."

"Take Motrin, it will help with the inflammation." He reached in my cabinet, grabbed the bottle and handed it to me.

I took two and then sat down at the table, my head in my hands. He brought me a glass of water. "You need to rehydrate. Get some water down your gullet today."

I nodded as I watched him pour himself a cup of coffee.

"I have the second shift today so I won't be around to drop books."

I nodded again. I finally screwed my courage to the bedpost and raised my head, "Greg?"

He turned, cup in hand and raised his eyebrows to acknowledge he was listening.

"Thank you for being a gentleman. I appreciate that you…uh…did what you did."

He snorted, "Gentleman? I just don't like sloppy lays. When we go to bed, you're going to be sober and begging me."

"There won't be a, 'when we go to bed.'"

He gave me the most sensual smile I'd ever seen on a man, "Don't be so sure Maggie, I'm hard to resist."

"Well, dream on broomstick cowboy. But, in the meantime, thanks for last night. I had a good time." I wanted to tell him it was the most fun I had ever had. But, he was looking so pleased with himself; I didn't want to throw fuel on the fire.

"Well, you weren't a bad substitute. I just wish you had been an _available _substitute. I could have used a hand last night…if you know what I mean." He wiggled his eyebrows.

"Jesus Christ, get over yourself. It's not going to happen."

He gave me a maniacal laugh and went back to his tv.

The next week, I didn't see him except on the odd occasion when I'd find him watching television at 2 am after he got off a shift. He pulled two forty-eight hour shifts over the next six days. I didn't get to see him before I left to spend Christmas in Long Beach with Tom. I left Greg's present on the table, a bottle of Talisker Whiskey, with a Playboy magazine and Cuban cigar. I left the card next to it, "Greg, Merry Christmas, this bottle fell off a truck. Indulge yourself. Maggie." I smiled, wishing I could see his face and that ornery smile when he read it.


	7. Chapter 5 Part 1 Retribution

**Chapter 5**

**Retribution**

House opened the front door and walked in to find the living room loaded with boxes and crates packed with Mike's things. Mike had some of his stuff in his arms and was stuffing it into half-empty boxes. He nodded a hello to House and then turned back to his packing. Taking off his pea-coat, House looked around for Maggie, but she was obviously out, her keys were gone from the hook by the front door.

He saw a bottle of Talisker, a Playboy magazine and a cigar on the coffee table along with a red envelope. He walked over and saw his name in Maggie's handwriting. He started to open it, but stopped and turned to Mike, "Where's Mags?"

"Long Beach. She went out to spend a couple of weeks with Tom. She should be back around the first of the year."

House was a little surprised that she hadn't said anything to him, but then she didn't really owe him an accounting of her whereabouts. "What's up with you?"

"I'm packing up, going home. My Dad had a heart attack and needs me to run the business. I'll get my degree closer to home, Trenton maybe. I don't need a Temple degree to run a trucking operation. Hey, think you could give me a hand? I've got one of my Dad's trucks out front. Could you help me load it?"

"Sure." House opened the card, smiled at the fact that she had remembered him, then went into the kitchen to get a beer. He thought of the beautiful and single Nurse Rachel and realized that he had the house all to himself. It was a perfect time to invite her over. No one would be barging in while they got comfortable on the couch or dining table or rug or wherever.

House was sorry to see Michael go. He wasn't the brightest tool in the toolshed, but he was fun and he knew his way around Philly. They had enjoyed each other, even if it was just hangin' watching television and drinking some brewskis. After loading the truck, Mike gave the somewhat stiff House, a quick man-hug and then disappeared down the street in the white truck. House went back in, took out the number from his wallet and dialed Rachel.

For the next five days, House alternated between Rachel and Meggie. He developed the wise habit of calling both of them honey so that there would be no slipups in bed. House took Christmas off from both of them just to give his bright red and very raw penis the night off. Sitting on the couch, House broke out the Talisker, Playboy and cigar. He didn't light the cigar, knowing Maggie would have him evicted if he smoked in the house, but he rolled it in his hand and stuck it in his mouth allowing the smell of the rolled tobacco to filter up his nostrils. He thought about Maggie and wondered if she were at Mass or in bed with Tom? He pulled out the 5x 7 taken at the Resident's Christmas Party that had arrived in the mail the day before. Sitting it on the living room table, House admired the bubbling breasts and found himself responding to the picture and the kiss he had shared with her. He wondered if it was too late to call Meggie or Rachel. Looking at the clock, he decided he'd keep it between him and Maggie. He reached in his pants, put his head back on the couch, closed his eyes and imagined making love to her in her big soft bed.

Maggie had been unable to get a cheap enough ticket for a flight on New Year's Day, so she settled for a ticket leaving New Year's Eve. Arriving in Philly, her brother picked her up and dropped her and her suitcase at the curb of her house. The house was a wreck with trash, magazines, mail, beer bottles and food lying all over. In the middle of the floor was a pair of women's shoes, pants, shirt and panties. She looked down and saw a condom wrapper next to them. Realizing that House had probably had sex on the couch or floor of her living room, Maggie grimaced and shuddered. She hadn't had sex anywhere but in a nice clean bed. She wondered just how clean Greg's bed was after ten days of her being gone. They weren't anywhere to be found on the first floor, so obviously the show had moved to his room. Grabbing her luggage, she went upstairs noticing that the door to his room was closed. Continuing to her room, Maggie felt exhausted from the travel and the very active ten days of fun in Long Beach with Tim and his Navy friends.

She opened the door, stepping back and screaming in surprise. House had a hard time stopping, he was in the middle of taking Rachel doggie style, his hands firmly on her ass as he watched what he was doing to the ample bodied Rachel. Maggie took the magazine in her hand and started beating House who was trying to pull out of Rachel. Rachel started to get up, taking House with her, causing him to cry out when she wrenched his penis.

House yelped, "Stop! For Chris' sake honey, stop, you're killing me." He was trying to hold the scrambling Rachel so that he could untangle himself. In the meantime, Maggie, taking no notice of the scrambling woman, was swatting House's head, his back, and his shoulder with the magazine. He finally took a backhand to her arm and Maggie went sailing across the room. He was now free of the horrified Rachel and turned his attention to Maggie. The thud of her head as she hit the closet door worried him.

"Mags, Mags! Are you okay?" He jumped up, rubber and all, and squatted to look at her head. "Damn it, I wasn't trying to hit you. I was trying to swat the magazine out of your hand."

Maggie looked at his bright red penis partially sheathed in a rather cheesy looking condom. She rubbed her head and frowned, turning up her nose at the view. House looked down and realized what she was looking at. He stood up, looked around, but Rachel was gone. He heard the front door slam.

"I'll be back." House disappeared in direction of the bathroom.

Maggie got up and started stripping her bed in a frenzy, screaming obscenities to herself as she wrenched the bedclothes free. House came back from the bathroom and found his boxers. Putting them on, he gathered up the bedspread and sheets, taking them downstairs to the laundry room. Maggie was putting on the fresh sheets when he got back. He reached over to grab a corner to help.

"Don't you dare touch that fucking sheet!"

"Maggie, you don't have to scream, I'm right here. You're home early. I was going to clean up in the morning."

"I want you out. _Tonight._ I want you out _tonight_."

House said nothing, but he had no intention of leaving. He liked Maggie's house. He shrugged, realizing that there was nothing he could do or say at this point that would help. Running downstairs, he started picking up, amused at the mess he had made over the last few weeks. House realized that he was pretty lucky to have found a room to rent with Maggie. She was both easy and difficult to live with, but always fun. Maggie liked a clean house, but not an immaculate one. She expected that everyone clean up after themselves and when she was under stress, she ran the house like a drill sergeant. But the house was always a home, not a museum. House felt more at home in Maggie's house than he had felt in his own home as a child. He assumed she was good at running a house because Maggie's mother died when Maggie was so young, requiring that Maggie take over the household duties. House could imagine that getting control over Jack around the house must have taken quite an effort on her part. Despite the fact she ran a tight ship, House always felt it was a happy and cozy one.

Maggie threw herself on the bed and clenched her fists, ready to tear House a new one. She jumped up, went downstairs, saw him putting the dishes in the dishwasher and picking up. She ran into the kitchen, jaw clenched, fist doubled.

"Out! I told you I want you out!"

"Mags, I have a lease good for another six months. I'm sorry you came home to that, but what's the big deal? You weren't using the bed. I can't screw in a twin bed. It makes me look like a child in first grade."

"Screw in a twin bed? You fucked on the sofa, on the floor and God knows where else, why couldn't you screw in your own room?"

He smiled and rubbed his wet hands on the dishtowel, "Because I like your bed better. It's softer and the comforter is warmer. Plus you have a headboard, makes it easier for me to tie them up."

She turned bright red, and ran upstairs. He could hear her screaming and shouting strings of obscenities. He ventured up the stairs and found her in his room pulling his stuff out of drawers.

"_Out! Out! I want you out."_

"No! I have a lease until June. I'm staying." They started pulling clothes between them as House tried to wrestle them out of her hands.

He was stronger than her, but she gave him a good run for his money. He managed to push her up against the wall and pin her arms behind her to keep her from moving. He could smell the Obsession perfume she wore, the musk of her sweat and the cinnamon from something she must have eaten on the plane. He saw every freckle, every mole, every eyelash and he wanted her. She was young, but he wanted this crazy ass woman.

Maggie could sense that he wanted to kiss her, fuck her. But all she wanted was to get away from him. He was confusing her. She was shaking with anger and yet she was drawn to his lips which were slightly open. His breath was warm on her lips. She could smell sex on him, along with the smell that was uniquely his, a woodsy musk. Her heart was already beating fast from the anger coursing through her. When his lips met hers they were soft, putting very little pressure on hers.

Everything was quiet, not a sound in the house. The only thing she could hear was his breathing and her heartbeat. Her eyes closed as he pressed ever so slowly. He dropped her hands and grabbed her up into his arms calmly, one arm wrapping around her waist, the other around her head. He wanted to feel her body pressed against his. It wasn't a sexual need, he just wanted to feel her close. Her little nose was next to his, their lips still pressing and finally his tongue finding hers. She had her head leaned back against his arms which were lodged softly between her head and the wall. He sucked in her breath, inhaled her cologne, touched her soft pink skin. When House pulled his lips back, he leaned his forehead against hers and opened his eyes.

A tear fell down her cheek. He was stunned, he thought he had been gentle, slow. Another tear fell down the other cheek. He pulled his head back.

"Mags?" He said softly.

She pushed hard against his chest, squirming away from him, running to the door, "I hate you. I hate you." She paused, "Oh, and your girlfriend has a yeast infection."

Without looking back she ran into her room and slammed the door, wondering what would happen next, what she was supposed to do with the knowledge that Gregory House was slowly, but surely, stealing her heart away. Helpless, Maggie cried herself to sleep.

When she woke up New Year's Day, the house was clean and House had gone to work. She unpacked, did her laundry and called Tom.

"Hi pumpkin, I got home safe and sound."

"Good." He sounded tired, she had forgotten that they were three hours behind in California. He sighed, "Why didn't you call last night? I waited."

"Well, you've got fingers, why didn't you call?" she asked.

"Cause you said _you would call when you got in! _Maggie, let's not quibble over who should have called. You're safe, you're home. I'm glad."

"I'm sorry. When I got home the place looked like a frat house. I had a fight with Greg."

"Well, if he's a pig, kick him out."

She sighed, "Not so simple, I signed a lease."

Tom laughed, "Yeah, and if he tried to enforce it your brother would serve him his balls on a plate."

"I know, but I don't want to run to Jack every time I get a scratch in life. Besides, things have settled down."

"Find yourself a roommate to take Mike's place. _But this time make sure it's a girl!"_

"Okay. I'm going to go. I just wanted you to know I was okay."

"Alright honey, I had a great time when you were here. Love you."

Maggie smiled, "Me too. Take care. Bye."

Maggie hung up and felt the lump on her head where she fell. Her fingers wandered down to her lips, rubbing them softly and remembering the way she tingled when House kissed her. She hated him, hated him for making her feel things she didn't feel with Tom.

For whatever reason, Maggie didn't put an ad up on the housing board. She was too busy trying hard to get into the groove of her new classes. She had never taken House up on his offer of tutoring, but now that her brother had convinced her to work an extra night, she found herself getting behind.

When she got a B- she freaked. Maggie had never received anything lower than an A in her life until the C on the test the semester before. She had managed to bring the grade up and received an A- in the class, but she was worried. She didn't want to have to work that hard again.

At home, things were icier than the February outside. House and Maggie exchanged only the necessary information and pleasantries. House had debated about taking advantage of Maggie's obvious confusion. He knew she was having problems dealing with what she was feeling. He came to the conclusion that it was better that he date Meggie and Rachel. He could see himself falling in love with Maggie and he couldn't afford that. He had plans, big plans, and love wasn't a part of them, at least not yet, not until he got settled in his career.

Maggie finally worked up the courage to ask Greg for help. He was reading a journal at the table in his pajamas. She swallowed hard.

"Greg, would you like some coffee? Coffee? Uh, maybe some bacon, eggs?"

He stared at her with one eye closed, "Alright, what do you want?"

"You offered to tutor me in my classes when you're on your 48 hour shifts. I thought…" she took a deep breath and looked at her tennis shoes. There was a stain on them.

"Come down tomorrow night. And yes, I'd like eggs, scrapple and toast. I'd like it tomorrow too."

She smiled, knowing he was going to extract his pound of flesh.

"Oh, and I want my name removed from Cavenaugh's."

Maggie smirked and squirmed, "Tall bill, it sets a huge precedent. If I do that, I need something back from you."

He said nothing, but sat back, waiting, eyeing her with a faint hint of a smile on his lips.

"I need for you to promise to never, ever, kiss me again."

"What about your wedding? Don't I get to kiss the bride?"

"No, you never, ever, get to kiss me again."

He looked at her. This was perfect, they could set boundaries, he would date Meggie and he could get back into Cavenaughs. He asked himself why he would want to go there, it was nothing special. But he realized quickly that it was because he couldn't go that he wanted to go. "Deal."

She pulled out a frying pan and cooked him breakfast.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Dr. House?"

The nurse looked at Maggie, who stood dressed in levis and a sweater, her hair back in a headband, scrubbed and clean, holding her text books. She shook her head, "Christ, not another one."

Maggie tilted her head, "Excuse me?"

"Girl, you seem awfully young, even for him. You ought to run while you can. Dr. House is a player, we get a new girl through here every week asking for him."

Maggie laughed, "I'm his landlord, not his newest plaything. I just need to see him."

The nurse looked up at the clock, "Well, it's 7:30 pm. He's probably down in the doctor's lounge at the …"

"I know where it is, thank you." Maggie was familiar with the hospital already. They had started reviewing cases and sitting in on clinics that semester.

Maggie walked down the halls to the stairs as fast as her black boots would let her. She was just about to go down the steps when House came up, taking the stairs two at a time. He looked up as he almost reached the landing, surprised to see Maggie standing there. She looked hot, like a gorgeous, young schoolgirl.

She thought the same about him. He was sex personified standing three feet below her, his long lanky arm reaching up for the handrail. Staring down into his large, boldly blue eyes, she grinned as he gave her an ornery smile.

"Ah! I forgot. Come with me."

She stopped smiling, "I can come back another night."

"Nope, just follow me."

He started walking, too fast for her to walk. She found herself running slightly behind him. He turned around, walking backwards at the same pace, laughing at her trying to catch up. She started giggling too.

"Am I going too fast, shorty?"

"Nah, I can cut it. Where are we going?"

"Lab. I was just assigned a case, no one's figured it out yet. The patient's kidneys shut down so they've asked for a consult. But the big guns can't figure it out. Come on."

She noticed that he was absolutely giddy, happy and excited. He reached back, grabbed her hand and pulled her along with him. She giggled the whole way. They were both laughing when they got to the lab.

He pushed through the glass doors, yelling at the lab assistant, "Where's the labs on Mr. Clare?"

"Dr. House, we told you…another half hour. We're backed up."

"The guy could be dead in half an hour!" He leaned in and whispered to Maggie, "Only if a meteor hits him." He straightened up, "We'll be back." He grabbed Maggie's hand, and bugged his eyes at her like a mad scientist, "Come on."

He pulled her along like a rag doll, evoking howls of laughter from Maggie, dragging her down the stairs rather than wait for the elevator. She was still carrying her textbooks in her right arm. He pulled her into a classroom. She saw a blackboard with things written all over it.

"Now, sit down." He practically pushed her into a seat. "Patient, 46 year old male, white. Two weeks ago he came in complaining of always feeling run down, malaise, general weakness and fatigue. They give him a Vitamin B shot and sent him home. He's back in with tingling and heart palpitations. No previous heart problems. Here's his chart. I want you to read me out some history."

In med school, they had a doctoring course where they were given clinical hypotheticals and taught to take histories. She was excited to be participating in a real case. But Maggie was a little nervous, wanting to prove herself to House.

"Uh, he's an accountant, plays tennis, has a little bursitis in right shoulder. He was prescribed Ibuprofen…400 mgs three times a day. He's had four refills. Uh…headache, when he was here for a routine blood test for work, he complained of headache."

House wrote headache, bursitis, Ibuprofen, accountant, neurologic examination- deep tendon reflexes and decreased motor strength, renal failure, edema. He sat on the desk and stared at the board. He turned, grinned at a nervous, foot tapping Maggie. He patted the desk next to him. She went over and sat on it. They stared together at the black board.

House slipped an arm around her shoulder, "Fun, isn't it?"

"I'm feeling nervous, I want to solve the problem, but more importantly, I don't want to let you down."

"That's too bad. You're going to be a doctor, you're going to be making a lot of mistakes, throwing out a wrong diagnosis from time to time. You can't be afraid of that, no matter who's on the case with you."

"Aren't you afraid that you'll kill the patient if you get it wrong? I mean, treat him with the wrong medicine and he dies or he dies if you don't treat him."

He squeezed her shoulder, "Maggie, sometimes you have to go for it. If you don't, they die, if you do, they die…you just have to take chances."

"What are you doing there, on the board? I mean, I know you've listed the facts, but what's your thought process?"

"I'm look for connections. How does a previously athletic and healthy individual, suddenly start getting neurological, renal and now cardiac…symp…"House stopped and stared sideways at the board. A smiled spread across his mouth. He grabbed Maggie and kissed her head just above her ear.

"_No kissing!"_

He chuckled, "That wasn't a kiss; that was an exclamation point."

Maggie gave him a smug look, amused that he was so pleased with himself for some reason.

"That wasn't a kiss, but this is." He grabbed her face in his hands and with passion, kissed her, open mouthed, eyes closed, tongue playing with hers.

Maggie was taken by surprise at first, letting the sensations sink in, returning his passion, but then she started pushing back, hitting him. She clenched her teeth, "You promised." She jumped up and he grabbed her wrist.

He pulled her up to his face, "You kissed back."

"I reacted. I didn't kiss you back."

"You had caramel ice cream before you came over. You kissed back."

She grabbed up her books in a fit of fury. Greg, put his hands on her waist, picked her up and twirled her so that she faced him. "Mags, don't you want to know what it is? Don't you want to know what's wrong with the patient?"

"Put me down."

"Not until you promise to come with me and help me treat our patient."

Maggie started kicking her legs, "Greg. You can't keep doing this."

He pulled her into his chest, "You want to know what it is, don't you?" He narrowed his eyes and held her close, feet off the ground.

She realized this wasn't about sex or their relationship, it was about his happiness, his excitement for having solved the riddle. "Okay, you're right. I want to know what's ailing the patient."

He put her down, grabbed her books and put them on the desk. Stealing her hand, he took her down the hall and up the stairs to a set of elevators which they took to the patient's ward. He refused to let her hand go until they got to the patient's room where Mr.Clare's monitor showed an arrhythmia. Mrs. Clare looked up at them as they walked through the door holding hands.

The forty year old woman grinned, "Dr. House, is this your fiancé?"

They looked quickly at each other and then House realized he was still holding her hand and the other had an engagement ring on it. He took Maggie's hand and kissed the back of it.

"Yes, isn't she beautiful?" He said in a staged romantic voice.

"She's young, but she's very pretty."

Maggie squirmed, but said nothing.

"Well, she is my muse and I think we may have solved the puzzle. What is your husband's favorite fruit?"

Maggie looked as puzzled as Mrs.Clare.

"He likes pineapple and apples, but his favorite is bananas. He eats three or four a day."

"Your husband has Hyperkalemia, Mrs. Clare. Your husband has to stop eating bananas for awhile and stop taking Ibuprofen."

Mrs. Clare nodded, "What's that doctor?"

"Your husband has too much potassium in his system." House hit the nurse's call button.

The nurse came in smiling at House. Something familiar passed between the nurse and House making Maggie jealous.

"I want his potassium levels checked. In the meantime, I'm ordering intravenous bicarbonate, Kalcinate, and insulin given together with 50 dextrose."

"Yes, doctor."

House turned and walked out, without saying anything more to the wife or her husband, who was deep asleep. Maggie said good night to the woman and followed. He walked back to the classroom and sat down in the chair, feet up. Maggie came walking in behind him.

"How did you put it all together?"

"It was the Ibuprofen. It can screw up the potassium levels sometimes. But he was young and relatively healthy, I was sure that there was a second agent also to blame. I didn't see anything else in his history. So it had to be something innocuous, something we'd usually miss, like bananas."

"Oh, you're scary. That was brilliant. You know, you have a reputation over at the medical college. Well, actually you have several reputations. One is that if it has a vagina, you've explored it. But, more importantly, you're considered to be some kind of medical savant."

He seemed very pleased and gave her a bow. "I can say that one of the rumors is unfounded. I haven't explored _every_ vagina, I'm making my way through them alphabetically. I'm on the "L's" which means you're next Maggie."

"Greg, please, don't say things like that. People will think that I'm encouraging you behind Tom's back."

"You kissed me back."

"It was an autonomous reaction involving Einstein's theory that for every action is an equal and opposite reaction."

"Mags, the equal and opposite reaction would be _not to kiss me." _He slumped, clearly the wind was out of his sails, "Let's work on your homework._"_

She was frustrated, "I can't stay if you're going to maul me."

He laughed, "Mags, if I was going to maul you, I would have done it the night of the Christmas Party, or have you forgotten?"

She sighed, glaring at him with resentment, "Okay, let's study."

They took out the books and after House calling her stupid, moronic and dense, she left with a better understanding of the material. She felt as if she had been kicked around emotionally. Besides being made fun of and called every name in the book, watching House's mind work was incredibly seductive. She loved men with brains almost as much as she loved men with strong personalities. Tom wasn't a strong personality, although he was ornery and all male. But he wouldn't stand out personality-wise if you put him in a line up with a dozen other guys from Fishtown. Maggie's father and brother were strong men with even stronger personalities. They weren't book educated, but they were brilliant at what they did, street savvy.


	8. Chapter 5 Part II Retribution

**Chapter 5 – Part II- Retribution**

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Mike came up on Friday, March 16th to spend the night and celebrate the next day in Fishtown. House worked until 2 am, coming home to Mike and Maggie sitting in the living room with Theresa, Meggie and Jack, all drinking Bushmills.

Jack perked up when House came through the door, "Greg! Have a Bushmills!" He poured House a double while House took his jacket and hat off. He took the drink from Jack and held the glass up.

Maggie smiled at him, her eyes glassy from being inebriated. She raised her glass, "Slainte mhath!"

Everyone, including House knocked back their whiskey.

House cocked his head, narrowed his eyes, "I give up, what's the party for?"

Everyone's eyes widened in horror. House broke out laughing, "Gotcha, boy you guys start St. Patrick's Day early."

They all nodded in unison.

"We open the Bushmills at midnight." Jack said, pouring himself another glass.

Maggie stood up, a little wobbly, "I'm going to bed. I've got to be at the pub at 4:00 pm."

They all said goodnight. House soon followed behind. Within minutes everyone had left and Michael was snoring on the couch.

House was perched on his pillow reading a journal to get to sleep when he heard the door open. He looked up. The door was only cracked open a little, but it was clear that someone was standing in the hall.

"Yeah? What do you want?" He waited for the person to acknowledge him. A few seconds passed and the door closed. House was too warm and toasty to go chasing ghosts, so he stayed in his bed and continued reading.

When the door opened up just a crack again, House became annoyed. "Damn it, either come in or get out."

The door flung open and there stood Maggie, looking young and pretty in a pink nylon pajama set with lace around the cuffs of the arms and pants. She closed the door behind her, "Greg?"

"Mags?"

"Do you think I'm pretty?"

"Not much, you're too short, freckled and fair skinned."

She swallowed hard, nodded and started to leave.

He threw the journal down, "Oh for God's sake Maggie. What do you think? Every time you turn around I'm trying to kiss or feel you up."

"Yeah, but guys would jump a baboon if they would stand still."

He smirked, "Yeah, that last baboon I fucked was a great piece of ass. Contrary to popular belief, I haven't had to nail a two-bagger since high school. Mags, what brought this on? Self-doubt doesn't suit you."

She frowned, "I got a call from Tom, he said he had something to talk to me about. He's flying back for his birthday in April. I tried to get it out of him, but he wouldn't tell me. I figure he's stationed in Long Beach with all those women in bikinis running around. He's probably going to tell me I'm the generic brand and he'd like to try the designers for a change."

"You're beautiful Mags. Not a classic Grace Kelly beautiful, but that wholesome, girl next door, beauty. Although I have to admit, I've never had anyone as stubborn, superstitious or ignorant when it comes to God and the Universe, live next door to me; but, if I did, she'd look like you. Now go to bed, you're drunk."

"I'm sorry. I'm just worried and lonely. It's hard having your fiancé thousands of miles away."

"Oh, boo hoo. Go to bed."

"Good night, Greg."

"Night, Mags."

She paused and then walked deliberately over, leaned down and gave him a kiss, her mouth open her hands on his face. House wasted no time. He threw back the covers, reached up and pulled until she was in his arms on top of the bed. He continued to kiss her, rolling her into the bed next to him. Turning his body to cover hers, he continued to kiss her, his hands crawling over the nylon of her pajama top. The nylon clung to her nipples which were clearly defined by the lay of the fabric. He put his mouth down over the cloth, feeling the shape of her nipple under his tongue.

Maggie was dizzy from the drink and the emotions going through her. She wanted a man's hands on her, her mouth to be kissed, arms to hold her. She was so lonely for the touch of a human, for a man. Her job, the school, it was all such a heavy burden and she wanted desperately to release the stress she was feeling.

Her mind surfaced when she felt his hands fiddling with the elastic waist band. Those long fingers, palm flat on her abdomen, slid cautiously over her silky mound of Venus. Maggie stopped moving, knowing that this was one of those moments that either you apologized and ran or you helped by spreading your legs for access. Maggie felt her legs part and the hand dip down, fingers resting on her clit.

He started to rub. The only time Tom had put his hand down there, was to see if she was wet or to find the entrance. House's long fingers rubbed and rubbed and rubbed until she grabbed his upper arm to hold on. Her body was stiff and taut, the pleasure coursing like liquid fire through her.

Maggie's moaning was driving House crazy. She smelled like Bushmills mixed with sex. Something he was familiar with. His erection was so hard that he had a hard time concentrating on the little button under his fingers. He could tell from the ripe nipples sticking up under the nylon top that it was time to bring her home. He doubled the speed of his rubbing until her mouth hung open in one continuous moan.

It had never felt like this, it had never felt so intense or pleasurable. The contractions with the orgasm were hard and fast, making Maggie moan as they bolted up from her groin and into her breasts.

"Fuck me Greg, fuck me."

He said nothing, but continued to rub her until her body collapsed under his fingers and she pulled her hips back, away from his hand. He grabbed her, kissing her again and again. She could feel how hard he was, how much he wanted her. She reached down and slipped her hand into his shorts, running it down to the base and under to his balls. She fondled them gently and then began to stroke him in a smooth hard pace.

He closed his eyes and pulled up a little to let her have easier access. House whispered, "Harder. Yeah, now faster…ah, ah." He pushed into her thigh as she continued to pump the length of his shaft. House's breath caught as the pressure built to the point of release, " Yeah…Maggie. Maggie. Maggie. Ah, ah. Damn."

Maggie pulled her hand out. Her arm and hand were dripping with semen, more than the Kleenex he handed her could sop up.

House laughed, "You better get cleaned up and go to bed."

Confused and sticky, Maggie got up and noticed that he had also ejaculated onto the front of her pajamas. She felt dazed; it didn't make sense. She'd practically begged him to screw her and he didn't. As she reached the door she turned, "Greg?"

He was cleaning up with a tissue. Looking up he saw the confusion in her eyes, "What Mags?"

"Why didn't you…"

"You're lonely Maggie. If Michael had been in this bed, you would have begged him to screw you. You just needed a release. Besides, I told you, when we screw the first time, I want you to be sober when you make the decision." He chortled when he saw how much semen had ejaculated over her hand and pajamas, "But, I'm warning you, it better be soon. My resolve is weakening each time something like this happens."

He got out of bed and followed her down the hall. She slipped into her room and grabbed some pajamas, meeting him in the hall as he came out of the bathroom, a towel around him. He smiled warmly at her. She smiled, but was looking down at her feet.

"Goodnight Maggie."

"Night Greg."

The bedroom door closed down the hall. Maggie took a shower and climbed back in her bed, sleeping soundly for the first time in months. In the morning when she woke up she opened her eyes and realized that Greg House gave her an orgasm! And she had reciprocated!

_I really have to stop drinking._

The clock reminded her that it was eleven in the morning. She took some Excedrin and did some chores. Around noon she heard noises up stairs. A few minutes later House appeared in the kitchen.

House was chuckling to himself, _"_Boy, Mike is still out of it."

"We were on our second bottle of Bushmills when you showed up. He and Jack drank most of it. Obviously, I had enough to get me into trouble again. I've decided no more drinking. I just misbehave when I do."

He smiled, "Yeah. Thanks for last night. I was going to invite Meggie up, but I was too tired to entertain for the whole evening. Your little interlude was the perfect answer. Next time, bring a washcloth."

Maggie snarled at House. "It's not funny. I have a fiancé and I just cheated on him. I'm going to call him tonight and tell him what I did. He'll probably demand that you move out. Your lease is up in three months. I'm not going to renew it, so you should start looking."

It didn't seem to faze him. He acted nonchalant, as if he didn't really believe her. "I suggest you wait until you see him in April before you give me my walking papers or tell him what we did last night."

"Well, I have to get ready for Mass. When Mike wakes up, tell him that there's another bar of soap under the sink upstairs if he needs it."

"Mass?"

"It's St. Patrick's Day, Greg. And I doubt I'll make it in tomorrow. So, I'm going to go at noon."

"Ah, yes, lead me not into temptation." He jumped up and started to walk out of the room. He turned and wiggled his eyebrows, "I can find my own way."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

St. Patrick's Day at Cavanaugh's required a full work force. Even Jack worked the bar. The twins, who worked for free drinks and the pleasure of beating up the drunks, set up the ATM Board. Maggie was joined by Erin on the floor. With two waitresses, two bartenders two cooks, and two busboys, the bar usually kept up, but just barely.

Maggie showed up at 3:30 pm to help line up the glasses and set the tables with salt, pepper and condiments. She was wearing a little elf outfit which came to the top of her thighs along with green tights. Her shoes were green with a big shamrock on the front that slipped off after the day was over.

The bar had been closed during the St. Patrick's Day parade and festival, but always opened at 4 pm. when the festival closed down. A couple of locals had already been let in and served, because they knew not to bother the staff as they prepared for the hoard that was coming. By seven that evening, the crowd was so large that patrons had spilled out to the street, cops ignoring them since it was St. Patrick's Day. Only two names had gone up on the ATM, one of which was for someone trying to fondle Erin. It was generally too crowded for anyone to feel the waitresses up.

The till was full and the patrons in great spirits, singing Irish songs with Martin, who played the piano over in the corner. Maggie wondered where Mike was, but then he usually made the rounds before ending up at Cavanaughs to finish out the celebration.

Around eleven, Maggie looked up to see Mike, Greg and Bobby Lonergan come through the door. She was somewhat shocked. Lonergan was an IRA refugee, coming to the USA hadn't been an option for him. He was wanted by the Orange for bombing a police station in Derry, something which Maggie had been very vocal about. Maggie didn't like him, she found _The Troubles_ to be just that, troubling. She certainly understood the Irish position. The failure of the British Government to insure that the Protestants didn't gerrymander the country had triggered Bloody Sunday back in the seventies, the slaughter of innocent, unarmed protesters by the British armed forces. From there on out, their occupation of Northern Ireland had resulted in numerous economic and physical hardships for the Catholics. But Maggie was just as disenchanted with the IRA who she equated with nothing more than thugs and chest-puffing assholes. She had soured on their cause as she watched the IRA deteriorate from a necessary military wing of a political movement to nothing more that terrorists and blackmailers. Maggie had frequently been the lone voice of dissent when people talked about _The Troubles_. When she raised the idea of using civil disobedience, not violence, like Ghandi and Martin Luther King, Jr., she was laughed at.

Maggie went over to their table, "What can I get for you?"

Mike stood up and gave Maggie a peck on her cheeks, "Guinness, Mags."

"Guinness." Lonergan said.

Maggie turned to Greg.

"Hmmm, so much to choose from. Do you think you could give a guy _a hand_, Mags? What are you _pulling_ tonight?"

Maggie blushed a bright red, but tried to appear unflustered, "We're pulling Guinness, Bud and Harps."

He smiled, "Give me a Black and Tan with Harps."

She turned and rolled her eyes. Maggie had to serve two tables their meals and then came back with their orders, but found the table empty. She could hear House's voice along with almost everyone else's as they gathered around the piano, Greg playing.

…_This Ireland of mine has for long been half free,  
Six counties are under John Bull's tyranny.  
And still De Valera is greatly to blame  
For shirking his part in the patriot game._

_And now as I lie here, my body all holes  
I think of those traitors who bargained and sold.  
I wish that my rifle had given the same  
To those quislings who sold out the Patriot Game_

Erin walked over to Maggie, "Just what we need, Irish rebel songs."

Maggie nodded, "Christ, I just hope that none of the Protestant police show up tonight. Pray that it's Donnelly and Malloy on patrol and not Witherspoon and Getty."

Erin laughed and went on her way.


	9. Chapter 6 Only the Lonely

**Chapter 6**

**Only the Lonely**

A couple of quick tiffs broke out, but nothing that wasn't contained by the twins. Greg played Irish songs until 2 am, keeping the crowd entertained and happy. I didn't realize he had such a wide repertoire of them, but he did. Piano players always get free drinks and so Greg's glass was never empty. At 2 am when we closed the doors, Michael and Greg were still drinking and playing. The staff left and I was responsible for closing up. I realized quickly that I was going to have to leave my bike and drive the two drunks home.

I poured them into the back seat of Greg's car and by the time we got home, they were both snoring so loudly I desperately wanted earplugs. I looked in the back seat and decided that they couldn't get into much trouble back there, so I left them and went inside. I knew that when they got cold enough they'd come inside the house.

It didn't take long. About twenty minutes later, after I had showered and just when I was ready to lock them out, they came tumbling inside. Michael wasted no time passing out on the couch. I locked up and started up the stairs with Greg following me like a puppy. When I got to my door and he was still following, I turned and narrowed my eyes.

"Good night, Greg."

"Maggie?"

"Yes?"

"Are you sober?"

"Yes, Greg, I'm sober. Why?"

He raised his eyesbrows slightly and his lips were pursed as if he was pleading, "Do you need some company tonight? I'd make it worth your while."

I started laughing. He looked so desperate. He was really hoping I'd say yes and let him in bed with me. "As enticing as it would be to go to bed with a guy that smells like cigarettes and stale beer, not to mention breath that could knock down a 747, I think I'll pass. Maybe when you don't smell like the floor of Cavenaugh's, okay?"

"Maggie?"

"Yes, Greg?" I looked at him. His eyes bloodshot, body unsteady on his feet.

"That's a deal."

I gave him a peck on his cheek and went into bed. I dried my hair and climbed in between the nice clean sheets, my feet aching from the long day. I heard the shower start and Greg gargling. I had just fallen asleep when my mind noted a presence in my room. The covers lifted and a body slipped in next to me. Bells went off and I scrambled to wake the rest of me up. Turning on the light, I flipped quickly to see who had crawled in bed with me. I found a showered, shaved and teeth-brushed Greg grinning at me. He wasted no time, pulling me to him for a kiss. God, he looked so good, so happy, so inviting.

"Greg, I really didn't mean it literally. Now be a good boy and crawl back to your bed."

"Mags?"

"Yes, Greg."

"I'll go to my room, but if you decide sometime during the night that you want to scream my name out in pleasure, just wake me okay?"

"I will Greg."

He got up and went to bed. As he left the room, part of me wished I had said yes.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Greg spent the next month working hard at the hospital and coming home exhausted. Twice I went to get help from Greg in classes that I was having trouble understanding. I don't know why I did it. He berated me and made me feel so stupid and worthless that by the time I left the hospital and bicycled home, I was ready to quit medicine. But, I always got A's on the tests after our sessions, so something must have sunk in. If I hadn't needed his help so much, I would have told him where to stick it and watched him smile as all kinds of sexual innuendos ran through that brain of his.

Tom had tickets to come home for the end of April. When we talked on the phone, I could feel a distance that wasn't there before. It worried me and made it difficult sometimes for me to study. But, no matter how much I begged for him to tell me, he kept saying that he had to tell me in person. I was so pissed and scared. If he wasn't going to tell me, he shouldn't have said anything until he got here. Not knowing what he was going to tell me was eating me alive and wrecking my ability to concentrate or enjoy anything.

Stressed and worried, it was no surprise that one weekday night, when I locked up the bar and unlocked my bike, I didn't hear the footsteps behind me as I came from around the back to the front with my bicycle. In twenty-one years of living in Fishtown, I'd never felt unsafe. I know most people think I was being naïve, but you have to understand, I was Jack Malone's sister. It was like having a force field around me. I practically lived in an unseen protective bubble when it came to my own safety.

I only heard the steps at the very last second. I turned to see Cory Sullivan with a knife, now pressed against my throat. I could smell the alcohol on his breath and realized I was in real trouble. No sober man would have dared pulled a knife on me in this neighborhood. Ever since the twins had taken him out back for going up on the ATM board, he had acted weird, giving me dirty looks whenever I saw him on the streets, in the grocery store or at Church events.

He hissed, "You're going to let me into the bar. Now turn around, let's go."

He didn't let me walk under my own power. He kept the knife to my throat as he pulled me along, his arm around my ribs. I could feel a trickle of blood running down from the point of his knife as it pressed into my neck, by my jugular. I unlocked the metal back door and he pushed me through. I kept looking around for something I could grab, but before I found anything, he grabbed an electrical extension cord and tied my hands.

He grabbed my chin in his hand, "Now, where's the money?"

I didn't say anything, it's that Irish stubborn streak I have. He backslapped me and I went flying into the stainless steel prep table. But I said nothing. The truth was, it had been a slow night and we probably only had 400 dollars from the till, which I had put in the safe as I always do. The next morning, Jack or Mac would count and deposit it in the bank.

When I still refused to help him, he clenched his front teeth and raised a fist, "Oh, you think I'm going to be easy on the great Maggie Malone? Fuck you, bitch." With that he hauled off and slammed my face into the walk-in refrigerator. My nose started bleeding, but I still said nothing.

"Let's go to the office, I bet you have a safe in there."

He pulled me to the office and trashed it. I was in a lot of pain. I knew my nose was probably broken, because the blood was going down the back of my throat making it extremely had to breathe. He finally found the safe, which was in the storage closet cemented in the floor under some boxes.

"Alright Maggie Malone, what's the combination?"

I could hardly talk with the blood running out my nose as well as down the back of my throat, "Fuck you and the horse you rode in on."

He picked up a can of mushrooms and slammed it into the side of my head. I stumbled back and fell. While I was down, he kicked me twice in the ribs. He kicked me so hard, we both heard a crack. The pain was excruciating, bringing tears to my eyes.

"I'm going to give you three seconds to tell me the combination. The consequences won't be pretty. You know I've always fancied that sweet little ass of yours. I bet I could make your pussy wet."

I couldn't believe that he was threatening to rape me. _I'm Jack Malone's sister!_ Beating me up and robbing the bar would be bad, but he'd live. If he raped me, he'd need to get his affairs in order, he would be a dead man. I said nothing.

"One…two…three…" he grabbed my hair and started pulling me out to the bar area. He pulled me through the swinging doors and out next to the piano. Dropping me, he went to the till, which was obviously empty.

He slammed the drawer close, "Jesus Christ!"

I could tell that he was really pissed, because he grabbed a bottle and started drinking out of it, cussing the whole time. He had probably hoped to get enough money to get out of Philly and go someplace, but that wasn't happening. I finally decided I should say something.

I sat my torso up against a leg of a table, "Cory, leave now and I'll tell Jack it wasn't anyone I know. I promise. Just leave."

"_No! _I'm not leaving without something. And it looks like you're that something. The great Maggie Malone soiled. The whole neighborhood will know that Tom's getting used goods. Yeah, the good Catholic girl who goes to Confession and Mass and is studying medicine to 'help people,' will be just another slut, good and fucked." He grinned the grin of an angry, deranged man.

Coming around the bar, I saw him loosen his belt. I still told myself that this wasn't happening; he wouldn't dare. He grabbed my arm, pulling me up. I had blood all down my front and the pain in my ribs was making it difficult to stay conscious. He threw me face down, bent over a table. I prayed to God.

"Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee, blessed…"

He pushed my face into the table to keep me from praying out loud. Throwing my skirt up over my back I felt him yank my panties down to my knees. I started to tremble and continued to pray for strength through Mary. I asked Jesus and God to forgive my sins and, if I didn't survive, to look after my friends and family. He was rough, he rammed into me. I was so dry it felt like sandpaper. He was enjoying giving me pain. As he slammed up into me, my body pushed forward causing pressure on the broken rib. Within minutes God took pity; I passed out. There was no more pain, no more blood, no more tearing in my vagina. I felt nothing, saw nothing, heard nothing.


	10. Chapter 7 Part 1Handle with Care

**Maggie's Story **

**©KBrogan 2008**

**Chapter 7 Part 1**

**Handle with Care**

House was pissed off. The nurse had asked him for a consult five minutes before his shift was over, putting him out the door fifteen minutes after his shift was supposed to end at 2 am. He was tired and looking forward to a quick beer before going to bed. When he got home, he was baffled, the lights were all out. Usually Maggie always left a light on for him. Looking around, he hadn't seen her bike chained up outside and he didn't see her bike in the kitchen, the two places she kept it. He still wasn't alarmed, there could be a logical explanation. He drank his beer, ate a cheese sandwich and went up to bed. Walking down the hall, he saw that her door was closed. The missing bike and dark house nagged him until he opened the bedroom door a notch to peek in, chills ran down his spine as his stomach turned -- the bed was still made.

House knew Maggie had the night shift. He usually ended up getting home a few minutes after her. He had offered to pick her up on the nights he got off at 2 am, but she refused, not wanting to make him go out of his way. Grabbing his keys, House flew out the door. He drove the route she always took to the bar. There was no sign of her. Arriving at the bar a few minutes later, House parked out front. The bar was mostly dark, with just the usual neon signs lighting up the window and behind the bar. But he could see her bike, on its side, in the little pass-way between the buildings. He tried the front door, but there was no response. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was horribly wrong.

He went through the pass-way to the back alley. His heart leapt into his throat when he saw the back door wide open. He opened the screen and walked inside. He was searching for a weapon when he saw the blood by the refrigerator. Grabbing a large wrench from the tool box, he continued to look around, slowly easing his way through the kitchen and pantry. There was no one in the kitchen, the office or the storage room. He looked through the window of the swinging door and saw a heap by the piano. He let out a short gasp.

Maggie was on the floor, her hands tied, skirt up over her shoulders, her panties pulled down. There was blood on her thighs and buttocks. When he turned her over he almost cried, her face was bloody and bruised, swollen to the point that no one would recognize her.

"Maggie? Mags?"

She was breathing, but there was no response. He pulled her skirt down and stroked her hair. "It's okay Mags, I'm here." House jumped up and went to the phone. He dialed 911 and ordered an ambulance. When he hung up he noticed that there was a phone list so House called Jack.

House heard a very groggy Jack answer.

"Jack, it's Greg. Maggie's been assaulted, I just called an ambulance. Meet us at Temple."

"Huh? Attacked? Who attacked her?"

"Jack, I don't have time to talk. I hear the sirens. See you at the hospital."

As the paramedics loaded Maggie, House called the police.

The rather bored voice on the other end of the phone had a heavy Philly accent. House told him what had happened, "Okay, so you say that someone broke into Cavanaughs and attacked the staff?"

"Just the barmaid."

There was a deep silence and then the cop's voice became anxious, "Jesus Fucking Christ, you're not telling me that Maggie Malone has been mugged?"

"No, I'm telling you that she's been beaten and raped."

"Ah, mother fucker!" The cop yelled so loud House had to hold the earpiece away. House heard him yell to someone at the precinct, "Tim, Tim, get yourself over to Cavanaugh's, Maggie's hurt. Hurley, call the Captain, this neighborhood is going to explode in the morning." The voice came back on the phone, "Now, who are you?"

"Dr. Gregory House, Maggie's lodger. When she didn't come home I went out to look for her. I'm going with her to Temple. You can find me there."

House hung up without waiting for a response. He got into his car and followed the ambulance to emergency. When he pulled in, there were already two cops waiting for him. They both saw Maggie being brought in and pulled back in shock at the sight of the disfigured woman in front of them.

The older one sighed, "Ah, Jesus Christ. I'd hate to be the poor dumb bastard that did that."

House shook his head, "What? You're worried about the asshole who raped and beat Maggie to a pulp?"

Officer Donnovan snorted, "Mister, you don't understand, whoever did this is a dead man and he probably knows it. His only hope is to get out of Philly before Maggie can tell her brother who did it."

House understood and realized that they were right. Justice would be swift. If Jack could find the guy, then he was a dead man. House gave a statement, what little he knew and then he talked to the ER doctors. There was noise from the front door of the hospital. Turning, House saw Jack and Theresa flying towards him.

"What happened? Where is she?" Jack asked in rapid fire.

House motioned for Jack to follow him into the doctor's charting room. "When I got home, Maggie wasn't there. I went down and found the back door to the bar open and her on the floor. She's in bad shape Jack. Her face is swollen and bruised. I don't know if there were any internal injuries, but she's been raped."

House didn't like what he saw. Theresa was appropriately shocked and started to cry. But the look on Jack's face turned House's blood cold. It was because there was no reaction. His face was as still and calm as if he had earplugs in. House was no fool, the face was a façade for the volcano churning inside. He had seen this before, when he was a kid, when the Marines on base where he lived would hear that one of their guys had been killed. This was the calm before the storm.

Jack's voice was flat, "Who did it?"

House shook his head, "I don't know. She was unconscious when I got there. They've already taken her up to surgery to repair her nose and some internal injuries. They told me that she'll be okay. Maybe you should call Tom, get him to fly out?" House suggested.

Theresa gasped and immediately cried out, "No! No, Jack. Don't tell him. He's coming back in a few days. We can tell him then."

House didn't understand and was surprised when Jack agreed. Jack saw that House was bewildered.

"Doc, I don't expect you to understand. But, people around here are kind of old fashioned. They think if a girl gets raped it was partly her fault. Tomorrow people will blame the guy who did this, but they'll also blame Maggie for riding her bike at night, although it doesn't look like that really had anything to do with it, not if he, or they, got her at the bar. Greg, thanks for going down there. I know you could have gone to bed and done nothing. I owe you one."

House thought about it. He would have gone to bed if it had been anyone but Maggie.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The nurse and staff were all advised by Jack that when Maggie woke up, he was the first that they should call – not the cops. He let the staff know that he'd be very unhappy if the Police were the first to talk to Maggie. They got the message. When Maggie woke up two days later, three people were by her bedside, House, Jack and Jack's "assistant", Matt.

House was reading her chart noting she had two cracked ribs, a collapsed lung, a broken nose, cracked jawbone and damage to the retina which had all been repaired. She had traumatic vaginal tears from the rape. She had been prescribed prophylactic antibiotics for both the surgery and possible STDs.

Jack knew he had very little time, the police were going to be able to identify the person who did it from the fingerprints left all over the till and safe. He wanted Maggie to tell him who it was now. He had a feeling he already knew. The day after it happened people were in the streets throwing rocks at the cop cars and protesting outside of Cavenaugh's. The crowds were stopping and badgering the police every chance they could get. If Maggie Malone was no longer safe, then things in the neighborhood had really gotten bad. Jack received a dozen phone calls from guys at the roofer's local 30 letting him now that Cory Sullivan hadn't shown up for work. When Jack made a personal call on Cory's wife and kids, his wife told Jack that she had kicked his ass out of the house two weeks ago. Cory had been staying with his Mom on Oxford Blvd. Jack didn't find him at Oxford, but his mother told Jack the truth, she hadn't seen her son in two days.

House watched Jack stroke Maggie's hair. She looked like a heap of flesh and bruises. She had an eye patch, bandages across her nose, her lip was cracked and her entire face was purple and yellow. When Maggie came to, she let out a muffled moan from the pain.

House walked over and turned up the morphine drip. "There Mags, you should feel better in a minute. She looked at House and nodded. Jack continued to stroke her hair and hold her hand.

"Mags, you're going to be okay. The doctors say you're young and healthy, you'll be on your feet soon. We've talked to the med school. They're going to allow you to take any tests you miss later in the semester. Don't worry, okay? I'll make sure you're fine. Apparently your tuition comes with student health insurance, so this is all covered."

Maggie nodded and tried to give him a smile, but it came out half-hearted.

Jacks stopped stroking her hair, leaned down and looked her in the eyes, "Mags, who did this to you?"

She looked in his eyes and knew she would be signing the man's death warrant. She shook her head to say that she didn't know.

"Mags, I already know. I just want you to confirm it. It was Cory, right?"

Maggie took in a sharp breath and a tear fell out of her eye.

"That's all I needed to know." He reached down kissed her forehead, "Now you rest and let Greg here take care of you. You wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for him. You had a collapse lung and blood blocking your windpipe. He got you to the hospital in time to save you."

Maggie looked over at House and put out her hand. House felt awkward, but took it and squeezed it. Within minutes, the morphine was working and Maggie fell asleep, her grasp on House's hand easing.

Two days later, the police took a statement from Maggie and verified it was Sullivan from the fingerprints. But rumor had it that they were already light years behind Jack who, as the neighborhood grapevine revealed, had tracked down Cory Sullivan to a Boston neighborhood where a cousin lived. Jack was fast, while the police took their time. They were a precinct of mostly Irish cops in an Irish neighborhood and they had no interest in getting to Cory Sullivan _first_.


	11. Chapter 7 Part II Handle wCare

**Maggie's Story Chapter 7 Part 2**

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You don't have to do my homework."

"It's child's play. You can review it later." House put the pencil down, "When does Tom get in?"

Maggie looked at the clock on the wall, "He should be arriving right now…probably picking up his luggage."

House laughed, "Damn, I forgot how easy this year was. Wait until fourth year, you'll be down at the hospital every night begging for my help."

"Greg, how do I look?"

"Like you went ten rounds with Mike Tyson and he won."

Maggie grimaced, "I had hoped that after a week, I'd look more presentable."

Greg shook his head and snickered, "I wouldn't mess with you. I'd be afraid of shaking something loose."

She gave him a curled up snarl. Over the next hour Maggie became increasingly anxious and nervous. House tried to calm her down by making her "help" him with her homework. After another hour went by, she made House check to see if the plane had landed. He called the airlines and then came back to the living room.

"It was on time."

Maggie grabbed his hands and with a frantic look begged him, "Call Theresa and see if she's heard from Jack."

House debated whether or not he should do it, but decided that if he didn't, she'd hound him until he did. He talked to Theresa for a few minutes and hung up.

"Theresa says that Jack and Tom went to Cavanaughs. I guess, Tom needed a drink. They'll be home later."

"A drink? Oh Christ, that means Jack told him; I wanted to be the one." Maggie put her head back on the arm of the couch and closed her eyes. She got up and slowly climbed the stairs.

"Hey! Where are you going?"

"He won't be home for awhile, not until he's good and drunk. I'm going to bed."

Maggie was right. Tom hadn't arrived when House left for his shift. When House turned up in the morning, Tom was on the couch sleeping off a night of drinking, smelling pretty rancid. House 

grabbed some water and took it up to Maggie. Opening the door he could see that her crying had started the bleeding in her nose all over again. There was blood all over towels, sheets and pillows.

"Damn it Maggie, this is the last time I pack your nose for you."

He helped Maggie clean up and then went to bed to get some sleep. When he woke up, Tom was gone and Maggie was prostrate on her bed, blood everywhere. Her eyes redder than they had ever been. House went over to the bed and sat down on the edge, but Maggie wouldn't look at him.

After a few minutes of silence she looked at him, "I want to die."

"That's not funny. Don't say crap like that. What happened?"

She rolled over away from him.

"Come on Maggie, what happened?"

She refused to roll back over, "He's sorry about what happened to me and he knows this is lousy timing, but he had come home to tell me he's met someone else and he needs to see if he can make it work with her. If not, maybe we can give it another shot." She had to stop, the sobbing had taken over, "Oh, and he wanted his ring back so he could get a refund. The jewelry store said they'd give him 90 of the purchase price."

House was furious. Even he wasn't that callous. He was pretty sure that if he saw Tom, he'd throttle him. "What did Jack have to say?"

"He already knew. Tom had told him a month ago. Jack tried to convince him not to do it right now, not to tell me. But Tom was right, I already knew something was up. It would have been torture to postpone it."

"Maggie, it's his loss. You didn't want to marry him any way. He's milk toast to your hot tamale. He wouldn't have appreciated you."

She turned her head, looking over her shoulder, "How the fuck would you know? You met him for what, five seconds?"

"I heard from others. Actions speak louder than words. I'd be back here as often as I could afford it if I loved you."

"Well, be grateful you don't love me. I'm damaged goods. Not fit for good Catholic boys."

House rolled his eyes, "You can't really believe that. Look, let me go get your homework and we can finish it up."

"Don't bother. I'm quitting. I've decided to take a job with the school. This was always just a pipedream and I'm out of steam."

House pulled on her shoulder to make her look at him, "You're depressed. Let me call Meggie or Theresa or Erin. "

"I don't need a babysitter, I need a sharp razor blade."

House clenched his jaw, "You and I both know you've got too much piss and vinegar to off yourself. So don't try to elicit my sympathy by feigning suicide ideation. Besides, suicide is a Mortal sin."

She furred her brow, amazed at the audacity he had to call her bluff. But he was right. She felt like crap, but she wasn't about to kill herself. Suicide _was_ a Mortal sin.

"As for med school. You aren't quitting that either and we both know that. I'm not buying it for one minute. Now get your ass out of bed, we've got to get rid of the blood on your bed or everyone's going to think I tried to murder you…which right now, I feel like it. I hate self-flagellation."

House was glad that he had the next thirty-six hours off. After cleaning her up and packing her nose, _again, _she refused to get out of bed, read, watch television or do homework. House removed her pain meds when he found out that she was taking her doses more often than prescribed.

Prescription bottle in hand he turned to her, "You can ask me for them if the pain gets too much."

She sat up for the first time in twenty-four hours, "Give them back! They're mine, you 're not my mother!"

"No, but if she were alive, do you think she'd do anything different?"

"Fuck you."

"That's more like it. I like angry Maggie better than self-pitying Maggie."

"Well then, make yourself useful. I'm hungry, fix me some food."

He did a quick sailor-like shuffle, "You're injured, not disabled, get that little ass of yours downstairs and make _me_ dinner."

Her mouth dropped, "I cleaned shit from your ass crack and you won't even get me dinner?"

"Bummer, huh?"

The pillow sailed across the room at him. Crawling to the edge, she tried to reach out and grab the meds from his hand, but he jumped back a few feet, leaving her grasping at air.

"Come on Maggie, you didn't really expect me to wait on you? I picked this house because I knew if I rented from a woman, the place would stay clean and I'd get the occasional meal. Women are so predictable."

Maggie jumped up and, holding her side, started to chase him. He ran down the steps, noting that she had picked up one of her textbooks and was planning to use it as a missile. House ducked behind the kitchen door and when Maggie waddled through, he grabbed the book from her hand.

He pointed to the breakfast bar, "Now, sit down and I'll fix you something to eat."

She looked at him, pissed that he had manage to get her out of her bed. She stuck her nose in the air and sat down. Pulling out some eggs, scrapple and bread, he took out a skillet. As he cooked, he danced and made funny faces, breaking down all of Maggie's resolve to stay stoic. She took her spoon, stuck it in the jam and catapulted it at him during one of his crazy antics.

"Oh ho Maggie Malone, you don't want to pick a food fight with me! I'm taller, stronger and more handsome. I'll beat you on principle alone." He took an egg out of the refrigerator and pretended to aim it at her.

"You better not!" She warned.

He couldn't aim at her face, it was being held together by patches, bandages and bailing wire. He walked over, bent down and looked into her eyes. His long arm reached up and smashed the egg into her hair.

"Ah, Jesus Christ Greg! It's all over me!"

"Now…eat up and I'll get the egg off your face…I mean out of your hair."

Maggie pouted, angry that he had called her bluff and she had no way to get him back. After breakfast, Greg came down with shampoo, conditioner and a towel. He took a stool over to the sink and with the towel draped over his arm like a waiter, pointed to the chair for her to sit. Maggie perched herself on the stool as House bent her gently back under the kitchen sink's hand hose. He shampooed her hair, sat her up, applied the condition and then stood in front of her, looking at his handiwork. After a minute, he rinsed the conditioner.

"Here, now dry your hair a little, I'll be back."

Maggie could hear water running in the bathtub. Within a few minutes House reappeared, "Your bath is ready, Ma'am."

Maggie tried not to laugh or smile, but it was impossible. She followed him upstairs and saw the bath, complete with bath oils and a towel sitting on top of the toilet lid.

"When Ma'am requires someone to dry and pat her down, she need only call."

"You wish!"

He left her and went in to change her sheets again. When she came out, the bed was made.

She looked at House, "I think I'll go downstairs and watch a little television, maybe do some homework."

House did a little dance and disappeared downstairs so that she could get dressed. Instead of pajamas, Maggie put on sweat pants and a long sleeved t-shirt. House thought this was a good sign. They spent the day and night talking, watching videos and doing homework. House ordered pizza which Maggie gobbled up. When the clock turned eight, Maggie stood up.

"I'm feeling tired. Thanks Greg…for everything."

"Goodnight Mags, sleep tight."

She nodded and went up the stairs. House watched a little more television while he read one of his journals. When he went to the bathroom, he stuck his head in to check on Maggie. The room was dark, but he could hear sniffling. He opened the door.

"Damn it Maggie, if you've got blood on those sheets, I'll give you another bloody nose." He turned on the light, but there was no blood, just red eyes and tears still running down her cheek. "I didn't know any person could cry as much as you do."

He went to the bathroom and when he reappeared in Maggie's room, he had on his pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. He crawled on top of her bed, pulled an afghan over his legs and then pulled her into his arms, holding her until she fell asleep.

Over the next month Maggie's physical injuries healed, but House could feel her spiraling down. She was no longer moaning for him to pick up after himself nor was she cooking for herself. Laundry piled up and he noticed that she never took her books upstairs to study. He rummaged through her backpack and found a midterm with a "D" written in red. She would soon get her wish to quit med school if she didn't buckle down. He figured she'd be kicked out by the end of the semester.

House Xeroxed her medical charts at work and, in full violation of patient confidentiality, visited her instructors, explaining what had happened. He asked that she be able to take the midterms over. Most of them said no, but did say that if Maggie did well on the final, they'd throw the midterm out or give the final more weight. He now had to find a way to tell Maggie what they were willing to do without Maggie going ballistic.

On one April morning, at 6:00 am, Maggie received a mysterious phone call while she and House were eating breakfast. House watched Maggie's forehead knit and a look of puzzlement came over her. When she hung up, she turned to House.

"That's weird! I just received a phone call from a disguised voice telling me to get down to the local social club on 2nd as soon as possible. He said that there was a present waiting for me on the sidewalk."

House tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, "This sound suspicious. You shouldn't go alone. I'll drive you and then I have to get to work."

They drove to the local and saw a crowd standing out front. House parked the car and as soon as Maggie walked up, the crowd grew quiet and parted to let her walk through. House took in a deep breath and looked over at Maggie, not sure what her reaction would be to what he could already see over the heads of the crowd. Everyone watched Maggie. No one said a word, took a breath, made a peep. They all waited for Maggie's reaction. Maggie walked up and stared, not showing any emotion.

She glared at the bloated, naked corpse, sitting up with his back to the building. Around his neck was a sign that read, "Rapist." Between his legs was a gaping gunshot wound where his penis and balls used to be. The hole was large enough that there was no doubt it was the cause of death. Maggie gave one curt nod and turned around, walking stoically back to the car. House followed her.

The trip back to the house was silent. House thought that he was more disturbed by the scene than Maggie. But there was no way to know. The next time he went over to Meggie's, she told him that the neighborhood gossip was that Maggie held her head high, spat on the body, and flipped it off. Greg didn't bother to set the record straight, it didn't seem to matter.

"I see the justice in what was done, but death is a little bit drastic isn't it?" House asked.

Theresa laughed, "It was a favor to his family. This way they don't have an invalid to take care of and they can collect his social security and union payout."

House chuckled, the Irish certainly had their own moral code. Still, House didn't lose any sleep over the death of Cory Sullivan. He wondered if Maggie would?

Maggie appeared to be studying more. She joined him one day at the table and, while reading the paper, told him without even looking up, "My instructors said that my _fiancé_ was in to talk to them about giving me a second chance. Apparently, my tall, brown haired, very blue eyed, fiancé, showed them my private medical records and now they are taking pity on me. I wonder when my fiancé was going to tell me?"

"You should give Tom a call and ask."

"Right. I'll do that."

Maggie seemed to have turned some corner after the dead body of Cory Sullivan showed up, at least for a few weeks. House returned home from work, having lost a patient, only the second one in his life, and kicked back with a beer. He knew Maggie was home, but hadn't heard a peep out of her. He went upstairs and knocked on her door, there was no answer. He went into the bathroom and saw masses of toilet paper stuffed in the trash can as if someone was trying to bury something under the mountain of tissue. He combed through the toilet paper and found the stick. Maggie was pregnant.

House felt a stab of dread go through him. He opened the door to her bedroom only to find Maggie sitting at the bottom of the bed staring out the window. She didn't move.

He sat down on the edge of the bed next to her, "I found the stick. Maggie, you can get through this. It will be okay. Your family will support you."

She shook her head, "I can't do this Greg. I can't have _his_ child."

He put his arm around her shoulder, "Maggie, you could give it up for adoption or I could take you to the clinic on campus and you could have an abortion."

She turned, looking frantic, scared, "I don't want anyone to know. The whole city knows what happened. I don't want anyone to know I'm carrying a rapist's child. Greg, please, you have to give me an abortion. I could go in one night and you could do it when it's slow."

House shook his head, "Mags, the hospital isn't licensed to do elective abortions, only medically necessary abortions. You have to go to the clinic on campus."

"Don't you understand? Some of my classmates work at the clinic. I don't want anyone to know. Greg, this _is_ medically necessary. If I don't have an abortion, a quiet abortion, I'll kill myself. Please help me."

It was her voice that did it. He believed her. House knew he was a good judge of humans and he could tell that Maggie was seriously contemplating killing herself, mortal sin or not. She had plummeted to the depths of hell in less than two months.

"Come over at nine pm on Tuesday and I'll help you."

She reached her arms around his chest and hugged him, "You're the only person I trust right now to not judge me."

"You aren't at fault Maggie. You didn't do anything wrong." House held her and wondered if it was too late for him to find new lodgings.


	12. Chapter 7 Part III Hanlde with Care

**Maggie's Story**

**Chapter 7 Part 3**

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So where do we go?" Maggie asked. She was standing still in her loose-fitting sweat pants and t-shirt.

He was nervous, this could mean his entire career if he got caught. "Down to the outpatient surgeries. I looked around and the manual aspirator is kept down there."

They started walking quickly and quietly through the linoleum lined halls to outpatient surgeries. Passing the janitor, they made their way to the sea-green waiting area. House took a key out and opened the door to the surgical area. Maggie followed.

Maggie was surprised to see a regular exam bed with stirrups. She had expected a machine that looked like some cyclonic maxi-vacuum. House pulled out several kotex from an overhead bin and handed them to Maggie. "You'll need a few for later. I'm going to use a procedure called manual vacuum aspiration. The contents of the uterus are suctioned out through a thin plastic tube that is inserted through the cervix' while suction is applied by a syringe. The procedure lasts about 10 minutes. You'll experience cramping tonight and tomorrow."

Maggie nodded that she was ready. House prepared the vacuum so that the contents would be sucked in to the manual aspirator. Taking off her pants and panties, Maggie draped one of the green paper sheets across her and put her feet into the stirrups. House started the machine and Maggie lay back. House used a local anesthetic to numb the cervix.

"I'm going to use a "dilator" to open the cervix." The procedure took a few minutes. "Now I'm inserting a sterile cannula into the uterus and attaching the tubing to the pump. The manual pump creates a gentle vacuum which empties the uterus." The procedure was over quickly. Maggie watched as House emptied the contents of the aspirator into a clear jar, added some water and held it up to the light.

"Greg? What are you doing?"

He looked at her without any change in his expression. "I have to search the contents to see if we got it all."

Maggie put on her panties, the Kotex and sweat pants. She walked over and looked at the jar. House pointed in the jar, "See the white feathery tissue attached to that small, clear sac? That's the embryo. It's interesting that something that small is already developing a brain, spinal cord and other organs."

Maggie closed her eyes and turned her back to him. She reached out to the counter and held herself up. House realized that he had said a little too much.

"Mags, are you okay?" He asked the back of her head.

Maggie nodded.

"Wait here. I have to clean up."

He disposed of the contents in the biohazard container and then started to clean up, taking the utensils to the lab for autoclaving. When he got back up to the outpatient area, Maggie was sitting in a chair, pale and worried, surrounded by a guard and a nurse.

The nurse came up to House, "Are you with this woman? She claims she just had an exam."

"Yes, I gave her an exam."

The nurse was suspicious, "Why are you giving her an exam in outpatient surgeries at ten o'clock at night?"

"Nurse, that's none of your business."

"You're Dr. House, aren't you?"

House pulled Maggie up by the arm, "Yes, Dr. House. Now if you'll excuse us, my patient has a cab waiting to pick her up. We can talk later."

"Excuse me, what is your name?" The nurse looked at Maggie.

Maggie looked at House for instruction, but House said nothing. Maggie whispered, "Maggie Malone."

The nurse took down the name. House grabbed Maggie by the upper arm. "Come along Ms. Malone." He pulled her along, moving down to the entrance where House put her in a cab and sent her home.

Maggie cramped for two days. House checked in on her when he got home and before he went to work the next day. Physically, Maggie was fine. Mentally, she kept repeating in her head that her baby had a spinal cord and a brain when she killed it. Maggie knew then that she was truly a monster.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

House was busy at work, his supervising doctor had been hospitalized with breast cancer. House was happy that he had no one to answer to, spending the day in the nephrology clinic handling patients at breakneck speed so that he could leave early. The staff quickly realized that House was good at diagnosing the patients and, despite his lack of personal compassion, was brilliant as a Nephrologist.

Over the next few weeks, House was spending the nights at home, enjoying having a day job, but extremely pissed that Maggie was rarely home. She had been spending her evenings at church, something he discovered by following Maggie three days ago. House knew Maggie was very intelligent and extremely pragmatic, except when it came to religion. It irked him that she would spend her 

precious time in a place where they paid homage to a mythical being. It was the biggest bone of contention between them.

Maggie came home Friday night at 8:00 pm and threw her backpack on the couch. She dragged herself into the kitchen and found a piece of pizza. "Greg, can I have this piece of pizza?"

House jumped up and went into the kitchen. "Yeah, but you have to answer a question."

Maggie was pouring a glass of orange juice. "What?"

"Where have you been the last six evenings?"

She looked at her glass, "At school, studying for finals. I'm in a study group."

"You're lying."

Her mouth dropped open, "I'm not lying."

He leaned into her, "You're lying. You've been at Holy Name of Jesus. Why? And, _why are you lying?"_

"It's none of your fucking business?"

"Right, I just got placed on probation because of you and you won't even tell me the truth."

Maggie collapsed onto the stool, "What happened?"

"The nurse wrote me up. They discovered the missing Kotex. Actually, they traced you and realized what we were _probably_ doing. Since they can't be sure of what I did, I wasn't canned. But, I'm on probation for doing an outpatient procedure without authorization. If I screw up again, which is likely since that's what I do best, I'm out."

Tears started running down her cheeks, "I've caused this, my sins have caused all of this."

House slammed his hand down on the counter causing Maggie to jump, "Jesus Christ Maggie, the dickless corpse caused this, not you."

Maggie got up and started to leave.

"Eat your pizza."

She turned and looked at him, "Not hungry."

Before walking up the stairs, House screamed, "You are too. You need to eat."

There was no response as she climbed the stairs. House walked out to the living room, listened for the shower sounds and then unzipped the zipper on her backpack, fishing out its contents. His anger welled up when he saw the brochures. He began to read:

_ARE YOU READY TO SERVE GOD?_

_If you feel you may be a good candidate for religious life, begin the discernment process: Open yourself to God with prayer. Gather information about a variety of religious communities, including monastic, apostolic, and cloistered. _

_Reflect prayerfully about who you are and how you would fit in with the communities you learn about. Visit several communities and get to know some of the members. How do you feel when you are with them? How do they interact with each other? _

_Confide in a friend, a spiritual director or a mentor about how you feel. Pay attention: God speaks through those closest to you. Make a tentative choice of a community. The Vocation Director will help you sort out your feelings and observations, and shepherd you through the rest of the process. _

House waited, seething, but Maggie didn't come downstairs. He bounded up the stairs, walking purposefully down the hall. Her door was closed, but not latched. He pushed open the door a little and found her, kneeling, holding her rosary and praying.

He threw open the door in a burst of anger, "_Maggie! Maggie!"_

Maggie jumped, turned and looked at him, "What?"

"_You can't believe this mumbo jumbo?_ That there's a God that runs around picking you out of billions of people to make suffer for your supposed transgressions? _You did nothing wrong! You were the victim of a brutal rape._" He could see she wasn't convinced. He walked over and yanked her up to her feet, pulled her over to the mirror. Holding her so that she could look in the mirror at herself, "If a child was molested by a child molester would you think that they did something to make the man touch them?"

She looked into the mirror, then shook her head.

He wrapped his arms around her and they stared together at their reflection. Maggie looked away, unable to tolerate her own vision. House pulled her tighter into him, she collapsed into sobs, but he held her, kept her upright. He kissed her head.

"Maggie, you're perfect. God isn't punishing you. Things just go bad sometimes, they go shitty. You have to accept that."

Maggie tried to wiggle out of his arms, "Please don't touch me, don't tell me I'm perfect. I'm anything but perfect. Save your words for someone who can believe them. I need to find redemption, I need to find meaning in what happened to me."

"Meaning? Meaning in a rape? I'll tell you the meaning of it. It means that some sick bastard overpowered you and stuck his dick up you. It means that he was so screwed up, he needed to do that to make himself feel like a man. There's your meaning."

Turning around to him, she shook her head, pushing him away, "But until I feel clean, redeemed, no man will want me."

House's face dropped in shock. The idea that she thought she was dirty, filthy, uncapable of being loved was such a foreign thought, he couldn't get his mind around it. He wanted to scream at her, slap her silly, make her see how stupid she was being. But the sincerity in her eyes was so painful, he couldn't be too angry. Still, he yelled at her as she ran out of the bedroom, "You're a moron. I can't believe that anyone can be this stupid. How can you, with all this spiritual mumbo jumbo you spout, think that someone wouldn't want you because of what a monster _did to you_? I thought God and Christ and all the Holy Poltergeists emphasized loving people for what's _inside_ them…not what's _been_ inside them."

He was chasing her down the stairs. Snatching her jacket and purse, Maggie grabbed her bicycle and headed for the door. House jumped in front of her and blocked the door.

"Get out of my way!" She screamed at the top of her lungs.

"No, I'm not going to let you give your life to some figment of your imagination."

Maggie clenched her jaw and rammed her bike into a shocked Greg to get him to move. House screamed and fell to the floor in front of the door.

"_Christ Maggie, you got my balls!"_

Standing with her bike still in her hands, Maggie kept staring at House, sure that he was faking being hurt. But he continued to hold his balls in his hands and rock back and forth. Calmly, Maggie leaned down, "Get out of my way or I'll do it again."

She wasn't joking. As he crawled off to the side, House watched her open the door and start down the steps.

"Bitch!"

Without looking back she yelled, "Bite me!"

He kicked the door closed and went to the kitchen to get an ice pack for his balls. Applying a package of frozen peas to the inflamed area, House sat down and watched television. He fell asleep waiting for her to come home. Worried when at 1:00 am she hadn't shown up, he snatched up his keys, mumbling obscenities as he climbed into his car. After an hour of driving around, he went back home alone, worried out of his mind.

Opening the door, he saw her bicycle and his worry turned to anger. He looked downstairs and then ran upstairs, two steps at a time. He threw open the door to the bedroom, catching Maggie, standing in the middle of the room, top off, putting on her pajamas. They were both surprised, but House soon regrouped and pushed Maggie.

"Damn it, don't you _ever, ever _do that again_._"

Maggie, standing with her arm around her bare breasts, used her other arm to push him back. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I don't want you on that damn bicycle at night. From now on, you don't go anywhere at night, not without calling me, telling me you're okay." He stopped screaming. House's voice caught in his throat. He raised his hand to his forehead and slowly lowered himself to the edge of the bed, looking at his feet, "Maggie, I couldn't take finding you hurt again."

Maggie was confused by this turn of events. She could handle House's anger, but not his worry. She could see he had been truly concerned about her. Standing in front of him, her arm still across her breasts, clad only in her lace panties, she sat down next to him.

"Greg, please don't do this. I can't stand the thought of you worrying about me."

"Then don't give me anything to worry about."

She laughed, "I can't promise that. I plan on living a long life. I've been doing some thinking about what you said. But, my pain isn't just because I was raped. I'm only now realizing that I committed the greater sin, I killed an innocent child. I was the real sinner. I have to find a way to forgive myself for taking an innocent child's life…I guess."

He moved closer to her on the bed, "I'm glad to hear you want to forgive yourself."

She motioned to the bed, "You're sitting on my nightgown."

"I know."

"Can I have it please?"

"When you answer a question."

"And what is the question?"

"Are you sober?"

Maggie blushed and smiled at the same time. She swallowed hard and looked down at her feet, "Greg…I've only been with Tom."

"We can remedy that." He slipped his hand onto her knee.


	13. Chapter 8 Part 1 Mi Amor, Mi Corazon

**I've decided to change the rating to mature because of the sex scenes. So if you don't like explicit sex, better skip this.**

**Chapter 8**

**Mi Amor, Mi Corazon**

The long fingers wrapped around my entire kneecap and tickled their way up my thigh. My heart was fluttering and I had to take a deep breath. Greg reached up and pushed me gently back on the bed watching my every move. I could tell he was as nervous as I was because his fingers were cold and his palm damp. Strangely enough, I took solace in the fact that the great Gregory House wasn't as confident as he seemed.

He kissed me, his mouth covering all of mine, his breath warm and sweet. Fingers crept further up my thigh, but then stopped short of my crotch, skipping up to my abdomen. His hand shook slightly as he touched just under my breasts. I brought my arm down slightly to keep him from exploring them. I wasn't sure I could go through with it.

For months I had wanted the touch of his hands on me, the feel of him next to me. I loved how he smelled, so much like musk and wood and earth and him mixed together. It stirred something in me; there was a hunger in my groin. I wanted him, but I knew that with Greg I would pay a high price, there would be pain too. He wasn't an easy man to be around. And I wasn't an easy woman.

Greg dragged the tips of his fingers over the top of my breasts. I shuddered, it felt so decadent and sensual. The look he gave me was lust mixed with apprehension. He wasn't sure he wanted this either. His hesitation made me sad. Greg House wasn't sure he really wanted me after all these months of the chase.

"It's okay Greg. You don't have to go through with it. I understand; I guess it's the old adage, 'be careful what you wish for. At least we make great friends."

Shaking his head, he sighed, "Maggie, it isn't you. I'm afraid if we do this, I'll lose myself in you."

"It's just sex. You aren't asking me to marry you."

He chuckled, "Oh Maggie, with you, nothing is _just_ _anything_. I'm a little older than you with a few more relationships behind me. I can tell that this is not just an attraction between a relatively pretty girl and a sophisticated and extremely handsome older man." He smiled.

I giggled, laying there with my arm still covering my breasts. "Now what?"

He ran his fingers down from my rib cage to the lacy edge of my panties, stopping and kissing my tummy, he pulled the edge of my panties down revealing the hair below. He nuzzled the curls and kissed me just above the folds. I took in a deep breath and held it. The long finger found its way between my legs. When he touched me, I shuddered, feeling my entire body tighten from anticipation. I still had my arm draped over my breasts.

He stood up and pulled my panties down over my legs which were draped over the edge of the bed. He slowly opened my legs and, kneeling in front of me, leaned in kissing the folds between my legs. His fingers parted me and the touch of his wet, hot, tongue between my legs was so exquisite that I let out a moan. He teased me with a light lick over and over, until I could take it no longer. I pushed into his tongue and he responded by applying more pressure at a quicker pace. My hips danced with his tongue until he started to suck. I stopped, letting him do all the work, sucking and licking, sucking and licking, until I was hot and dripping. With every suck and every lick, my body jerked in pleasure. Greg's hands stroked my thighs as his tongue danced over my clit. I was so close to coming, I thought I'd die. The foreshadow of the pleasure to come, the little ripples of pre-orgasmic fire, made me drop my arms to my side and grab the comforter. He looked up without missing a beat with his tongue. He smiled, obviously pleased at the sight of my breasts, bobbing up and down as I fucked his tongue.

I didn't want to scream, but the sounds escaped with each breath. I had never felt anything so delicious, so soul-stealing. My mind was wrapped in the electricity of the contractions in my body. I didn't see him, the room, the ceiling. I wanted to drive my clit into his mouth. I screamed out from the pleasure raging under his tongue. As my fingers relaxed, Greg stood, unbuttoned his five button Levis and dropped them and his boxers to the floor. He leaned down on the bed, pulling himself out. He didn't even look down at what he was doing. He kissed me while he found what he needed between my legs. Rubbing the head of his penis on my still tingling clit, he gave me goosebumps. Pushing up inside a few inches, he sucked my nipples and licked my breasts in circles. I wanted to feel him, to know what he felt like inside of me so I pushed into him, swallowing him up so quickly it was his turn to shudder. He opened his mouth and his brow furred, the look on his face so pained that I wasn't sure he was enjoying it. But he bucked up several times inside, crying out and filling me with his warm semen. I held onto his shoulders and gripped his penis with my muscles as tight as I could. He continued to thrust until he let out one last sharp cry and then dropped onto my chest like a dead weight.

I could smell him, he was the only thing I could smell. I wanted to inhale him. I was happy, I was so happy, I felt guilty. I wasn't sure why, but I laughed to myself. The mixture of happy and guilt seemed so absurd as I lay with this breathless man prostrate on top of me.

Lifting up, Greg narrowed his eyes, "What? Why are you laughing?"

"Because that felt so good. I've never had an orgasm that felt like that."

"You mean Tom didn't make good use of his tongue?"

"Tom thinks a tongue is for licking the rim of a glass of Guinness."

"Well, I can't fault him for that."

I slapped Greg on the back. "Can you lift up, you're too heavy."

He rolled over on his back and I snuck a look down at him. Even spent, his dick was different.

He looked down too, "I told you, I'm uncircumcised. Which reminds me; we need to get you on the pill or diaphragm."

I said nothing. Scooting to the edge of the bed to get up, Greg grabbed my wrist. "Whoa, what's the silence about?"

"One, you assume that I'm just going to open my legs now anytime you want sex and two, no birth control. We can look at the calendar, but if you want birth control, it's going to have to be your sin, not mine."

He sat up like a jack-in-the-box, "Two weeks ago we performed an abortion because _you _couldn't handle having a child. Isn't that the ultimate form of birth control?" He said it so sarcastically that I wanted to smash his face.

I pulled my wrist out of his hand, "That was cold even for you. Don't you realize how sick it makes me to know what I did? You know what? I don't need your cynicism. My beliefs are important to me. If I'm the least bit important to you, you'd respect that."

"I can't respect a belief system in something you can't see, touch or feel and requires you to splash water on yourself when you walk through the door."

"Then I guess this is the shortest sexual relationship you'll ever have."

He laughed at me, "Sorry, but Mary Worley beats this."

I shook my head, "Fine. Get out."

He refused to budge.

"Get the hell out of my room."

H e was staring at my breasts, and then he shook his head as if he was clearing cobwebs and looked up, "Oh, were you saying something? Hard to concentrate when you bounce your breasts in my face."

I stormed out of the room and into the bathroom.

He yelled at me from outside the bathroom door, "Did you ever consider how big a hypocrite you are?"

I said nothing.

"You claim to be Catholic, but you have premarital sex, you had an abortion, you and your brother engage in stealing things and yet, you won't use birth control? Can you explain to me your logic?"

I was furious, mainly because he was pointing out everything I already knew. My contradictions were glaring, but I couldn't help it. My life experiences had paved the way down roads I didn't really want to take, but was forced to. He knew this, but as usual, he just loved to rub my nose in it.

I threw open the door, "Do you know how much what you just said hurt? Don't you know that I struggle with my failures every single day? I struggle to be good, to not sin? It's easy for you. There are no rules, no boundaries when you believe in nothing. You can't disappoint yourself, can you?"

He looked somewhat contrite, "Maggie, you're so brilliant. How can you believe all this mumbo jumbo? No sex, no abortion, no birth control. It's not logical in a world like ours with population problems."

"This isn't going to work is it? Catholic girl and rampaging atheist. We're going to keep having these arguments over and over."

He stepped up to me, "We're going to come up with some ground rules. I promise not to bitch about Catholic dogma if you let me use rubbers and you promise not to spend all your free time at church. I'd like some of it with me."

I was stunned by how open he was about what he wanted. "So, you're saying that you want me to be the third jewel in your crown?"

He knitted his brow, puzzled, "Third jewel in the crown?"

"Meggie, Rachel, Maggie."

He smiled and shook his head. "You're jealous?"

I stubbornly shook my head, "You have to care about someone to be jealous. I'm curious."

He pulled me into him, my naked body against his naked body. He felt so warm and hairy, the little hairs tickling my sensitized body. I could feel his muscles underneath his skin, feel his heart beat, hear his breath. "Maggie…Maggie…"

"Greg, let me go."

"Maggie, tell me, do you want me to stop seeing your cousin? Rachel?"

"Let me go Greg."

"I like feeling you next to me. Answer my question."

"No. I don't want you to stop seeing them."

I could feel him slump a little, upset, disappointed. His voice was strained, "Okay. If that's what you want."

"I don't want to be exclusive." I was lying through my teeth, but I didn't want him to have the satisfaction of knowing I wanted him all to myself. Besides, it was better for both of us if we didn't get too serious.

He looked down at me and hesitated, searching my eyes to see if I was telling the truth. "Fine, we won't be exclusive. What else do you want?"

"For you to let me go."

"After that."

"You can't tell anyone about us. When we're together, you can't let on to others that we're seeing each other."

He smiled and chuckled like he didn't believe me, "You mean we can't go out on real dates?""

"We can go out, but people can't know it's a date. We have to act like we're just friends going out for the evening."

Greg exhaled through the nose and frowned, "That's ridiculous."

"No, it isn't. Dating Meggie is one thing. People don't really expect Meggie to marry anyone soon. She likes to play the field. You aren't the only guy she's going out with. But I've never dated more than one person at a time. Everyone expects that the guy I'm dating is someone I might marry. I don't want them thinking that we might get married."

He let me go and walked over to the bed, a funny smile on his face, "I'm not good enough to be seen as a possible match for Maggie Malone?"

I felt awkward having a discussion between us in the nude. Greg moved around as if this was a natural state. I just wanted to go to bed. "Greg, you've made it very clear to everyone how you feel about Catholics. You're not Catholic. I don't want my brother to know."

"Oh! You don't want your brother to know you've sunk so low?"

"What I don't want is to find you beat up in some alley around here."

His face went blank and the blood drained. He realized what I was trying to tell him. I was afraid of Jack doing something stupid to keep Greg from going out with me. It was clear that Greg finally understood what I was saying.

"Do you understand now?"

He nodded very slowly, without saying a word. He looked at me, "What do you want now?"

"Let's go to bed."

I went over to the bed and grabbed my nightgown, but he calmly took it out of my hand, "I'll keep you warm."

We kissed briefly and then I climbed into bed. He followed behind me, spooning me and fondling my breasts, his fingers finding my nipples and touching the tips, then rolling them in his fingers before he cupped my breast in his palm. Stroking my skin, he slid his hand down over my body to between my legs. He wasn't too subtle about what he wanted. Still behind me, he lifted my leg up and propped it with his leg, while he found the folds, parting them with the head of his penis. I didn't move, I let him have access without protest. He slipped inside of me, but not very far. I could feel his fingers gently rubbing around my nipples as he kissed my back. He began to thrust slowly. The act of doing nothing was rather erotic. I let him use my body for whatever he wanted and, as he did, I felt flashes of heat as I became more and more aroused. From behind, at that angle, Greg couldn't penetrate very deeply, so he used short thrusts, quick strokes until he started to stab and stop, ejaculating each time he did this. I could hear him stop breathing at the top of each thrust. It wasn't long until he pressed his forehead into my back, exhausted from the sex.

He reached around and rubbed between my legs, licking my back. I let him rub until I could feel the orgasm coming.

"Yes, yes, that's it. Inside, I want your fingers inside now. He accommodated me and I started to hump his fingers faster and faster until the sweat started to pour off of me. I reached down and held his hand and fingers inside of me while I continued to buck, bringing myself to the top of the orgasm. I screamed out again and Greg took over until I could no longer handle it. I closed my thighs around his hand.

I laughed, "Damn, I'm too tired to clean up again."

"Go to sleep, we'll clean up in the morning."

"I don't know if you noticed, but you didn't wear a rubber."

"Yeah, well you just had a period, I'm not too worried. Goodnight Maggie Malone."

"Goodnight Gregory House"


	14. Chapter 8 Part II

Maggie's Story

Chapter 8 Part II Mi Amor, Mi Corazon

Greg had a forty-eight hour shift at the hospital the next day, which was good for both of us. It was the beginning of the second week of June and the heat was already in full swing. I was glad that he had to go to work, it gave us time to think about what we were doing. When he came home it was Friday morning and I was out of school for the summer.

My brother had purchased a used car for me again. It was a little Toyota Corolla, which I was _required_ to drive to work. He paid for my insurance; I had to pay for my gas. Mac, the bartender, was now staying and locking up with me, insuring that I was safely packed up and sent home each night that I worked until 2 am.

Whenweboth worked nights,Greg and I usually arrived home within five minutes of each other. I always beat him to the shower and was taking one, dreaming of a summer with him, when he opened the bathroom door. I hadn't expected him to just walk into the bathroom while I was in the shower. I let out a horrific scream.

"_Maggie! It's me."_

"Oh, God Greg, you scared the life out of me. " I pulled the curtain back to look at him. He was undressing.

"Sorry. Scoot over, I'm coming in."

I let him in so that he could get under the shower and soap down. I had never showered with a man before and I was still a little shy about letting him see my body. He seemed to think my body was his new toy, illustrated by the fact that when he climbed into the tub, soaping me down was his first preoccupation. I returned the favor and could see that, despite a 48 hour shift, the newness of us, had him at a full salute. Before I could really think about it, I was pinned up against the tiles, legs wrapped around his hips, being fucked, my body sliding up and down the cold, wet tiles. His panting and grunting made the whole event seem primal, urgent. It happened so fast, that I barely had time to get my bearings, let alone protest.

He pulled out, let me down and then continued with the shower as if nothing had happened. It had been the first time I had sex in a bathroom and it had happened so fast, I hardly had time to enjoy it! Finishing with my conditions, I got out, toweled off and put on my nightgown. He followed behind, wearing nothing, and proceeded to crawl into my bed without an invitation.

"Greg?"

He had his eyes closed, "Huh?"

"We need to talk about boundaries." I crawled into bed. Sitting up I was trying to get him to pay attention.

"Uh, huh."

"My bed and my shower are not automatically yours. We aren't exclusive. What if I had another man over?"

I heard a muffled chuckle out of him, which pissed me off.

"_It could happen._ I could find someone else to screw."

"We could have a threesome. Don't worry, if you have a sleepover, I'll ask first before screwing you. Okay? Now, can you go to sleep. I'm tired."

I lay back and turned my back to him, angry once again because, to him, the thought of me dating someone else was a joke. He turned over and, wrapping one of his long arms over me, he pulled me like an octopus into his body and refused to let me go all night. I woke up in the morning without his arm, but with a long leg draped over me, claiming my body through the night.

During the summer months my brother expected me to work most of my nights in the bar. Although he did agree to give me Saturday and Sunday nights off. To celebrate us both having Saturday night off, we went to dinner and a movie in central Philadelphia, away from the neighborhood. It turned out to be okay, no one saw us, and I felt happy to be able to act like a real couple on a date.

We stayed away from discussing things like religions and the Irish. During dinner I learned more about Greg's childhood living abroad. He told me about his Japanese adventures, his Egyptian friends and his attempts at wooing Italian girls.

"Have you been anywhere?"

I shook my head. "The farthest I've been is a field trip in high school to Washington D.C. We went down and spent the night. I saw a little of the Smithsonian, the Lincoln Memorial, and the Viet Nam Memorial. We laid wreaths for the guys at my high school who died there. You know the high school I went to, Thomas Edison on Luzerne St., lost more guys in the Viet Nam war than any other high school in the nation. We lost 54 guys in the war."

Greg cocked his head, "Really? Hmmm. I know that in Arizona there was a high school, Morenci High, where nine of the sports team graduates one year joined and only three of them returned."

"That's sad."

"That's war."

I shook my head, "It's still sad."

"So you've been to Washington D.C.?"

"Yep. And that's it."

"So, what are your plans when you get out of med school?'

"I hope to get an internship in Philly or nearby and then do a residency at Temple."

"What residency?"

"Infectious Diseases."

"So you plan to stay in Philly, not even venture out to do your residency?"

"Is there something wrong with wanting to stay in my neighborhood? I know all these people, my brother is here, my friends. I can do some good, help them."

Greg snickered. "Sometimes you're so conventional, Maggie. You need to see some of the world so you can appreciate where the diseases come from."

"Give me a break, I can look under a microscope and tell you where the disease came from."

"Aren't you curious about the world?"

"I love my community. I have what I need and want. Sure, I'd like to venture out. I want to see the Grand Canyon, Yosemite, Hollywood, Europe, but it can wait. What about you?"

"I've traveled a lot, didn't actually spend a lot of time in the USA until high school in San Diego. I plan to settle on the east coast, away from my parents."

"Away from family? Don't you love your family?"

He chortled, "Like a toothache."

I couldn't understand that. Family, friends and the Church had defined my life, "Your Mom? You don't love your Mom?"

He seemed reluctant to answer, "Look, I love my parents, but I don't like them. Things happened when I was a kid that they shouldn't have let happen. They were both responsible. I don't want to deal with them. Hey, can we talk about the movie you want to see? I'd like to see. I want to see Goodfellas."

I shook my head. I lived Goodfellas, why would I want to see a movie about the mafia? "I want to see Ghost, but I'll settle for Dances with Wolves."

He nodded, "Dances with Wolves works."

"Wow, we can compromise?" I asked rhetorically.

He gave me an ornery look.

"You just played me didn't you? I told you I wanted to see _Ghost_, but you wanted to see _Dances with Wolves._ Greg, why didn't you just ask me?"

"And risk you would say no?"

We drove to the movies and, I have to admit, was impressed with the movie. I liked it a lot. Greg seemed happy enough with the choice. We talked a little about it on the way to the car. When I got into the car, I was rather excited. I wanted to discuss something with him.

He got in and started the car, we pulled out and after getting into traffic, reached over and held my hand. I squeezed it playfully.

"Greg?"

"Yeah?"

"Your birthday is next Monday. I looked at your schedule and saw you have Friday night, Saturday and Sunday off. I figure I better tell you so that you don't make other plans. Our new cook, Ronnie, is going to fix up a meal and I got the local jazz quartet, the _Blue Signatures,_ to come to Cavenaugh's to play. I'm throwing you a little birthday party."

He looked at me, his eyes clearly troubled. "Mags, I've already made plans for this weekend. I'm sorry."

My voice caught, "Plans? Weekend?"

Greg remained quiet.

"Greg, could you change your plans? I've got the cake ordered and the quartet."

He clenched his jaw and pressed his lips together. He was either very frustrated or starting to get angry. "Maggie, I can't. Rachel is taking me for a weekend in the Poconos for my birthday. She's already paid for the room."

I felt my heart and the muscles around it clench in pain. I could feel my face go blank and tears start to well. I refused to cry. I couldn't say for sure, but he had to know I would plan something for his birthday. And now, he was not only going away with another woman, but he was doing it on the weekend of his birthday. He was being exceptionally cruel. I refused to cry.

"Okay. I'll cancel the quartet." I tried to sound nonchalant. But I didn't dare say anything more or I knew I'd lose my composure. I was angry with myself for caring this much about him. I was an idiot, a fool and a joke, truly the naïve girl he thought I was.

It was deathly quiet in the car. The evening which had been so much fun had turned sadly disastrous. The car pulled up to the curb and I jumped out, rushing inside the house. He came in behind me and I could tell that he was watching me. I walked up the stairs, changed into my gown, brushed my teeth and got in bed. He stayed up a few minutes telling me before I went upstairs that he was going to unwind a little and watch some tv.

I couldn't sleep. I allowed myself the luxury of letting out some of the tears. I didn't want to, but the hurt little girl inside of me needed some release. After a few minutes, I sucked it up and let the stoic woman out. I knew I was to blame for telling him I didn't want to be exclusive. But I guess I thought he'd be exclusive anyway or at least let me have first dibs at his birthday. I thought about what I needed to do to cancel the party. A lot of people were going to be disappointed. Greg was an asshole, but he was a well liked asshole. The Irish had a big heart and it included assholes.

I heard him in the bathroom getting ready for bed. I scooted to the far side of the bed. He got in and, like a heat seeking missile, attached himself to my body. I pretended to still be asleep. His hand went up my gown and under the elastic of my panties. I jerked away and then turned around.

"Greg, I'm really tired, do you mind if I take a raincheck?" My voice was calm and, I thought, convincing.

He pulled his hand out and slipped back over to his side, turning his back to me. The next morning I woke up on my side of the bed and he woke on his. Our anatomy was distinctly apart. He left for work and when he got home, I was already at work. At 2 am I drove home and got ready for bed. When I opened the door to my bedroom, he wasn't there. I had a sinking feeling. I quietly made my way down the hall and opened the door to his room. I slumped when I saw the empty bed.

The next day he came sauntering in around noon. I was cleaning out my bedroom closet, sorting winter things out. He smiled at me.

"What's up?"

I smiled right back, "Just cleaning." Inside I wanted to grab him around the neck and tell him not to do this, not to sink us before we even set sail. But I kept my mouth shut and kept pulling out the sweaters, scarves and gloves to sort through for St. Vincent de Paul.

"Okay. Want something to eat?" he asked.

"I just ate. I have to go to work in a few hours. I'm pulling a shift and a half."

He looked at me, like he wanted to say something, but couldn't or wouldn't, "Well, I'm pulling a 48 hour shift so I won't see you for a few days. Do you have to go to work on Thursday? I get off at 5:00 pm, I thought we'd go out to dinner or something for my birthday?"

"No, I have to work. Erin's working double shifts this weekend and won't want to take my Thursday shift. You could come into the bar and see me."

He looked glum, as if this had thrown a wrench in his plans.

"Sure, I'll stop by and say hello."

"Great."

He started playing the guitar, something he did whenever he had time available. I listened and couldn't help but be impressed with his playing. His musical abilities almost rivaled his medical skills. He took great solace in it. He had his music, I just wondered why he couldn't see that I had my faith?


	15. Chapter 9 Part ! Go the Mass Has Ended

**Chapter 9 Part I**

**Go the Mass is Ended**

Greg House paid for the Poconos weekend knowing full well that Maggie would probably plan a party for him. Birthdays around Fishtown were always celebrated at Cavanaugh's. He wasn't surprised when he found a receipt for a birthday cake in her purse to be picked up the Saturday before his birthday. A lesson needed to be taught. He looked into Maggie's eyes when she told him that they should date others. He could tell she was lying. His only way of convincing her to date him exclusively was to make her come to terms with how she felt.

He went over to Proctology and found Rachel, who smiled broadly when she saw him. She was wearing scrubs, but even in scrubs there was no doubt that Rachel was gorgeous and bright. She was the daughter of a low level diplomat and had lived in numerous places around the world, making her fluent in several languages. They shared a lot in common, including a love of jazz and old records.

"Hi, stranger. Where have you been?" She asked.

He sighed, "Longing for you. I've been pulling a lot of shifts. But – I have this weekend off and reservations in the Poconos for my birthday. I thought you just might like to bring your diaphragm and get away. It's my birthday, Monday." He added the birthday just to make it more attractive for her to come. Women liked celebrating special occasions.

She did a little wiggle, "Ohhh, that sounds fun. I need to get someone to cover my Friday night shift, but I think I can make it. Besides clean underwear, any other clothing I should pack?"

He looked up to the sky as if he was thinking, "Hmmm. Nope. I don't think we'll be getting out of bed much."

She laughed and nodded to him to move along, "Oh, before you go. When will you pick me up?"

"Around noon."

"I'll call if I have a problem getting someone to cover the shift."

House gave her a little salute and then took off. His date with Maggie was the next night. He tried to imagine how it would go. Was his little trip going to come up tomorrow night or would it come up on Thursday as he made a big deal over packing to go away? He wasn't sure. He just wanted to drive home the point that if she wanted him to date, he'd date.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

House crawled into bed behind Maggie, but was pretty sure it was a useless gesture. The date and the evening had not ended the way he had anticipated.

The date had gone well, both of them laughing, teasing, having a good time. House found Maggie to be well-read and incredibly articulate with ideas and opinions on everything. He was never bored in her company. Even arguing with Maggie could be fun. As the evening wore on and they snuggled and kissed, House was looking forward to being between Maggie's thighs later that evening. He could imagine his face buried between her two gorgeous breasts which, admittedly, were the best breasts he had ever seen. How they managed to develop and become so perky, full and round, he didn't know. Lots of women paid good money to have breasts like hers and, since he was a breast man, House was in heaven. Maggie's legs were also gorgeous, with shapely calves, nice thighs, thin ankles. Everything was a go; Maggie had been giving him big smiles and warm kisses, all the right signals to indicate that the end of the evening would go his way. But then the hammer fell.

Maggie told him about her plans for the party. He could tell from her voice that she was excited about it and proud of the celebration she had so meticulously planned. Even House thought the jazz quartet was a nice idea. When he told her about his plans, he decided it would be best if he claimed it was Rachel who had made the plans. If she knew that House had actually made them without her, it would hurt her even more. He was already regretting it, knowing that what he was doing might have further ramifications down the road.

She went to bed without him, shutting him out when he climbed in behind her. House was pissed. This wasn't going the way he expected.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Thursday, House packed a few things and then drove down to Cavanaugh's to see Maggie before he left the next day. It was still light outside when he arrived at the bar. Walking in, he was pleasantly surprised to see Mike sitting on a stool along with Jack, Theresa, Meggie and Maggie. On the counter was a large cake with multi-colored writing, "Happy Birthday Greg- Don't Forget, Birthdays are Food for You - the More You Have the Longer You Live."

House smiled and nodded as they sang Happy Birthday to him. Afterwards, Meggie cut the cake and served it while Maggie continued to wait tables. House ate his cake and drank his Guinness while he watched Maggie evade him. She washed dishes, cleaned tables, served food, took orders and on the occasion came over to see them.House couldn't complain, everyone had shown up on a Thursday just to have an impromptu party for him. The fact that Maggie avoided him could be written off as expected since she was the only barmaid.

"Hey Greg, shame you had plans for this weekend." Jack said.

House nodded and took a bite of cake, filling his mouth, "Yeah, well I got invited to the Poconos and didn't know Maggie had planned anything."

Theresa leaned in, "Yeah, she lost the deposit on the jazz quartet. I think it was 125 dollars. But, I guess it's cheaper than paying the entire 500 bucks."

Jack shook his head, "I told her that she could advertise that the quartet was playing Saturday and any money over our average for the evening, she could use to pay for them. She would have probably made most of it back."

House looked over at Maggie and felt even worse than before. She didn't spend much on herself. Her brother was good to her, making sure she had tuition, which from what Mike said, cost him all of what he made each year from the bar. For now, Jack lived off his other "earnings." He also paid the mortgage on Maggie's house and let her keep the 400 in rent money that House paid. She used it for her books and lab expenses. Maggie's earnings and tips at the bar took care of her living expenses, utilities, gas. She didn't buy herself any luxuries. He couldn't remember the last time he saw a shopping bag around the house or seeing her in anything new, she really watched her pennies. A jazz quartet would have been an extravagance for her.

Meggie patted House's hand, "I don't think Maggie did anything close to this nice for Tom. She must really like you."

Jack nodded, "Well, he did save her life. She owes him big time."

Handing him a present, Meggie leaned over and gave House an open mouth kiss just as Maggie walked up to the table.

Jack slapped the table, and pretended to yell at House and Meggie, "Hey you two, get a room."

Maggie looked House in the eye, "Greg, another Guinness?"

"Yeah, thanks."

Maggie brought the Guinness and sat it down in front of House just as he opened up the gift from Meggie. There was a big laugh from the table as Meggie helped House remove the contents. There were feather-lined handcuffs, motion-lotion and crotchless underwear which Meggie stood up and pretended to model.

House looked up at Maggie, mortified. This wasn't going the way he wanted it to go. He had hoped to dazzle and charm Maggie into missing him over the weekend. Instead, she seemed to be both disappointed and sad.

Maggie stayed away from the table as much as possible without making the others suspicious. She was both angry and upset with herself for caring about this lothario. She was just another toy in his harem. _I'm such an idiot_.

Around midnight, Mike agreed to drive House's car and a very tipsy House home. House smiled at Maggie as she cleaned the table, "See you at home?"

Meggie laughed and kissed House on the cheek, "Me too, I'm going with you and Mike. Maggie invited me over so that she and I can get an early start. We're going down to the shore tomorrow. So maybe, if you're good, you can use your gifts tonight."

House swallowed and looked back and forth between the two women. If he didn't know better, he was sure that he had been played by Maggie. House, Meggie and Mike went back to the house and waited for Maggie to close the bar and join them.

When Maggie got home, House thought she looked rather tired. She kicked off her shoes and stood next to the stairs. "If you guys don't mind, I'd like to go to sleep. Meggie, Greg, you two can have my bed, I'll sleep in Greg's room."

House choked on his beer, coughing and sputtering.

"Greg, did you hear that? Maggie's going to let us use her room tonight so that we don't fall off your twin bed!"

House gave a pathetic smile, "Yes, that's very generous of her."

Maggie climbed the stairs and brushed her teeth. She went into her room to grab a gown. Looking at the bed, she felt foolish for giving it up. But what better way to demonstrate that she didn't really care about him and his conquests than to let him have sex in her bed while she was down the hall? Maggie turned and looked up. House was standing in front of her. She jumped, "Oh, Greg! You startled me!"

"Maggie, why are you doing this?"

She pretended not to understand, "I don't know what you mean?"

"Great, why are you letting me have your bed to screw your cousin?"

She smiled, "I thought you'd be pleased. With all those new sex toys, this way you can try them out before running off to your next conquest."

He closed his eyes, "Oh Maggie, all I ever wanted was…"

She walked up to him, waiting for him to say that, 'all he wanted was her.' But in walked Meggie, throwing the sex toys on the bed and then jumping on top of the comforter, patting the bed for House to join her.

Maggie chuckled, "I'll see you two in the morning. Have fun."

House watched her walk out of the room and close the door.

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The sun woke Maggie who looked over and saw that it was 7:00 am. She walked into the bedroom to wake her cousin. She shook the bed. House lifted his head to see who was shaking the bed. Maggie's eyes met his as he lifted up slightly. Meggie was sprawled naked, except for the crotchless underwear, on top of him. The handcuffs were latched to the bedpost.

Maggie pointed at her cousin, "Could you wake her for me? We need to get going if we're going to have any fun before I have to come back to work. I'm just going to get a few things and then I'll wait for her downstairs." Maggie turned, pulled some clothes out of the dresser and started out the door. She didn't look at him, but simply said, "Have a nice weekend Greg. I hope it's everything you want it to be."

"Maggie…"

But she didn't wait, she left the room and went back to his. Maggie took a shower and packed a lunch. Her cousin came down the steps holding her head.

"Ah, Mags, I don't feel so good. Would you mind if we don't go today?"

The black circles and swollen face told Maggie that Meggie's hang over was real. "It's okay Meggie, we can go another day."

"I'm really sorry."

"Don't be, it's not the end of the world. How's Greg?"

"He seems a little down. I don't think he enjoyed last night as much as I thought he would. He was preoccupied with something. I think work may be getting to him." She leaned closer to Maggie, "He didn't really use the things I got him. He barely managed to do it last night. I don't think his heart was in it. If you know what I mean."

Maggie gave her a couple of Exedrin and a cup of coffee. House came down moments later and joined them in the kitchen. After a few minutes, Meggie stood up. She walked over to Maggie and kissed her on the cheek. "I'm sorry. I promise to make it up to you." Turning, Meggie went over, took House's chin on her finger, and looked him in the eye, "Greg, you're spreading yourself too thin. You need to figure out what's important and do it." She kissed him warmly and then waved at both of them.

When the door closed, House looked up at Maggie, "Mags, when I get back, I'd like to take you away for a weekend, somewhere that you haven't been."

She laughed, "Oh, are you planning to take each of your girlfriends away for a weekend? Rachel this weekend, me next and then Meggie? I'm sorry Greg, but I see what you're doing. I'm just one of your toys. What's the song say? In your world I have no meaning?"

"Maggie, you know that's not true."

"Shhhhh…" She motioned to the living room where Mike slept on the couch. "I'm going to go to the shore. Like I said, enjoy yourself this weekend."

Maggie cleared her dishes, grabbed the lunch and took off. She didn't know if she'd actually go to the shore, she just knew she had to get out of the house. She didn't want to be around him.

House sat on the stool looking into the lukewarm coffee. Nothing was going to plan. She had countered his every move and now they both seemed miserable. He couldn't understand how something so great could take such a wrong course so quickly. He'd never been with a woman who was able to see through him. He had to admit, she was savvy, especially for being so young. Being on the streets had proven a very astute training ground. Now he had to figure a way to pull it back together.

The phone rang, "Hello?"

"Greg? Is Maggie there?"

House recognized Tom's voice. "Uh, no Tom, she's not here. How are things in Long Beach with your new girlfriend?"

"Well that's what I want to talk to Mags about. I may have been a little too quick in calling it off. You know what I mean? I just had a fight with my new girlfriend and I keep thinking about Maggie. How I never argued with Maggie. She and I seemed to mesh. You know what I mean Greg?"

"Well, you know, couples have fights all the time. You need to focus on making that relationship work first before talking to Maggie. You can't bounce back and forth. Maggie's healing, you can't act like you might get back together and break her heart again."

"Is she seeing someone? Am I too late?"

"Yeah, she's seeing someone. It's serious too. They seem to be good for each other."

"Really? Jack didn't say anything."

House panicked, "I don't think Jack knows yet. You know after dating his best friend, she wasn't sure she wanted to share her love life with Jack."

There was silence. "You're right. I've got to try and make this work before I shake up Maggie's world." He paused, "Greg, this guy she's dating, is he better looking than me?"

"Yeah. Smarter too." There was an uneasy silence. House could hear Tom breathing, but there was hesitation.

"Well, then I guess I'll let you go. Can you tell her I called? Tell her that I…that I care about her."

"Sure."

"Bye."

House was frustrated. As if it wasn't bad enough that Maggie was messing with his head, now Tom was back in the picture. Going away for the weekend wasn't a great idea with the possibility that Tom might call back. House sat down, chugged back the cold coffee and ran up to finish packing.


	16. Chapter 9 PartII

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The weekend was nicer than he thought it would be. Rachel had been a willing and nimble playmate. She was easy to be with, no fighting, no double entendres, no need to figure out what would make her happy. Being with Maggie was work, _too much work_. He was always fighting with her, being challenged, wanting her to see things his way. Maggie was as stubborn as a mule. This Poconos trip had been good for him. He could go back to Philly and let Maggie go; he didn't need that kind of relationship.

Yet, every time he penetrated the luscious Rachel, he kept thinking something was missing. Was it Maggie's soft belly, her perfectly round breasts, the soft eyelashes on her cheek as she cried out for more? He realized it was the fire in Maggie, the knowledge that he was stealing the heat of the sun when he held Maggie in his arms. He was Icarus to Maggie's sun.

House walked into the house at 5 pm, and threw his bag down. Maggie was on the sofa eating something and watching a video. He unzipped his bag and pulled out his dirty clothes, taking them to the laundry. The whole time he was walking around the house he was whistling, _Under My Thumb._ He smiled again as he walked through the living room, grabbed his bag and went up to his room to unpack the rest of his things.

Hearing the doorbell ring, he stuck his head out, trying to listen to what was going on downstairs. He couldn't quite hear so he crept to the stairwell. He heard Maggie's voice.

"Sisters, may I get you something to drink?'

He heard two female voices.

A sweet feminine voice rang out, "Water."

A shyer one joined in, "Yes, water would be lovely."

House crept further down the stairs, trying to take a look at the visitors without being seen. He dipped down to look into the living room only to see two nuns staring up at him. He smiled and then walked casually down to the living room. Maggie came out with two glasses of water, giving him the evil eye as she did.

"Sister Cecilia, Sister Agnes, this is Dr. Gregory House. He rents a room from me."

They smiled warmly, Sister Agnes reaching out with her hand, "Dr. House, glad to meet you."

He shook her hand and nodded. "So Sisters, why are you here?"

They grinned, "Maggie is thinking of joining the Poor Sisters of the Nazareth." The nuns were ecstatic as they sat in the short blue-gray habits, white blouses, gray cardigan and gray skirt. House was amused by the white socks and black Brogans on their feet.

"She is?" He looked over at Maggie. "Maggie, what have you told them about this last year?"

She shook her head, begging him with her eyes not to say anything, but he couldn't resist.

"Have you told them about your little baby?"

Sister Agnes stopped smiling, "Oh, Maggie, I'm afraid you can't enter the order if you have a child under the age of 18."

She looked at House, "I don't have a child."

He smiled at the nuns, "What's the penalty for abortion these days? Ten rosaries, a novena and a slap across the knuckles?"

The nuns drew in a breath in shock. Sister Cecilia looked at Maggie, "Maggie, did you abort your child?"

She shook her head at House in disgust. Unable to look the nuns in the eye, Maggie looked at the glass of water in her hand, "Yes, sister I was raped and I aborted the baby."

There was silence. "Have you confessed this Maggie?"

"Yes sister, I have."

"It's a serious sin and we would have to talk it over with our Order. But it's possible we would accept you anyway. Especially, as you have confessed your sin and received your penance."

She stared smugly at Greg, "Thank you sister."

House blurted out her name, "Maggie…"

Maggie jumped up, "Greg…did you need something? I'd like to talk to the Sisters _in private_."

House was feeling desperate. She had done it again. He had just come to the decision that he didn't need her and now that he might lose her to the Poor Sisters of the Nazareth, he was frantic. How did she manage to check his every move? Did she even know that she was doing it? Or was he playing chess with a lucky monkey?

House started yelling, "Maggie, I don't want to date anyone but you. I don't want you to date anyone but me. I want to be with just you Maggie, just you. Don't put yourself in moth balls. You're too alive to do this. Look at them all plain and boring next to your spectrum of color and excitement. Besides, you don't even look good in gray!"

Maggie turned bright red and averted her eyes from the Sisters. She didn't know what to say to them. She stared at House, who had the look on his face of a drowning man. Finally, she looked back at the women, "Sisters, I'm sorry. I hadn't expected this. I need to talk to Dr. House, clear a few things and then I'll give you a call. I'm so sorry."

The sisters stood and nodded, "We understand, Maggie. You've been faithful to the church since you were a little girl. You and your brother have been great supporters. It would do wonders for the Order if you joined us, but you must first look in your heart to see if you're ready."

Maggie nodded, "I'm ready, he isn't. Don't worry, I'll call you soon." Maggie escorted the nuns to the door and then closed it. Turning on House, Maggie barked, "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Great talk for a nun."

Maggie put her hands on her hips, "Cut the crap Greg. Don't pull this now. Don't claim after sleeping with every woman you have contact with that you want to be with me. You could have said no to Meggie or Rachel, but you didn't. You failed miserably."

House looked over at the furious Maggie "You're right. But I did it because you told me to. Do you know how confusing it is to have the woman you want offer her bed up for me to screw another woman? And then tell you to have fun?" He held his forehead.

"I know you lied to me."

"Lied? I didn't keep anything from you. I was with both of them and you knew it."

Maggie started screaming, the veins in her neck sticking out, "You lied! I got a call from the inn in the Poconos last week and they wanted to confirm the reservation in Dr. House's name."

House felt his heart speed up. Beads of sweat broke out above his lip. He was going to lose her. "Yeah, I made the reservations," He threw his hands up, "But only after you told me that you didn't want to be exclusive." House was lightheaded. He sat down on the sofa and closed his eyes. "I lied. I lied because, after our date, I knew I had made a mistake making those reservations. I knew that I should have told you that I wanted us to be exclusive. Don't hold it against me."

House reached out and grabbed Maggie around the hips and pulled her to him. He put his head on her abdomen. Maggie didn't want to respond to him; she knew her heart would crumble. He clutched her and closed his eyes, as if she was going to disappear. She wanted to stay strong. But she could smell him, feel his hand touching her and it broke her resolve. She stroked his hair, reached down and kissed the top of his head. He held her even tighter, finally pulling her down into his lap.

She looked into his eyes, "No more lying; I'll know or I'll find out, understand?"

House nodded.

"No dating anyone else."

House nodded.

"No more games."

House nodded.

"No making fun of my religion."

House hesitated. "I don't know if I can do that. I promise that I'll be nicer about it."

She glared at him, "You better be."

House looked at her, "Now, my turn. You have to find a way to tell your brother."

Maggie's eyes flashed wide, "I can't!"

"Maggie, I don't want us sneaking around." Maggie kissed him, trying to distract him. House pulled back, "You think I don't know what you're doing? I'm not a magpie, I can't be distracted by a shiny object."

She snarled, "Fine. If you and I are still a couple in four months, I'll tell him. Deal?"

"One month."

"Three months. That's final." She said with a certain force.

House looked in her eyes and decided she had made her mind up. He wasn't about to tangle with Maggie Malone, unless it was in bed. "Three months and then you tell him."

Maggie nodded. Given their history, Maggie doubted seriously that they would make it three months, but her heart made her promise that she'd try. Gregory House was the only man in her life that, when he was gone, she felt a hole in her stomach.

House had visibly relaxed. Tilting her back onto the couch, he kissed her, tasting the coffee she had been drinking. "Maggie?"

"Yes?"

"You have to be the most frustrating girl I've ever met." He said it without laughter or pain, just a simple statement of fact.

"Girl?"

"Hell Maggie, you're only twenty-one. I feel like a perv dating someone so young."

"I turn 22 in a month."

He chuckled, "Oh, well that makes me feel so much better. I'm going to take you away for your birthday."

She looked into the blue eyes and touched his smooth face, "You don't have to. I think being right here with you is about the best place on earth."

Leaning in for another kiss, he could hear her soft breath. Maggie closed her eyes as he slipped his nose next to hers and kissed her open mouth. His hand rubbed up her body, touching the padded bra and imagining the beautiful breasts underneath. Shifting his body, House started unbuttoning his Levis as he continued to kiss Maggie.

He reached down and unbuttoned her jeans too, rapidly. "_Get them off_."

She took her jeans off as House removed his, revealing his hairy thin legs and pink pig face boxers. He watched as the pale yellow cotton panties, so unpretentious, appeared from under the jeans. He loved watching Maggie, the young schoolgirl.

"Maggie, baby get the top off. " He felt a certain urgency, a need to possess her, "Now, Mags."

Maggie pulled the top off revealing a plain bra. House didn't have time to remove the bra. He was throbbing. He buried his face between what little of her breasts had been revealed. Licking the salt off of the tops of the white baubles, he pulled her panties down and let Maggie slide down onto the couch. House lifted his hips while his hand frantically felt for the folds between her legs. The wet tip of his penis rubbed against her slit and then stabbed just seconds before he screamed out.

"Mags! Yes, oh, oh. Fuck, Mags. Fuck." His hands were flat against the sofa, his body resting on his hands as if he were doing pushups. His mouth was wide open, eyes closed. With each separate word he penetrated as far inside as he could. His whole body shook as he rocked with each ejaculation.

House was shaking as he slowly lowered himself down and pulled out. He opened his eyes and looked apologetically at her. "I don't know what that was about, but damn it felt good."

Maggie had been holding her breath after the first thrust. She watched this all unfold in a matter of seconds, almost laughing because he seemed so embarrassed. She was flattered, the urgency, the wanting to possess her, made her feel important. Semen started to leak out, warm against Maggie's thighs. She tried to move out from under House, to catch the semen before it stained the couch.

He pushed her shoulder, "Wait! It's your turn."

She shook her head, "It's going to get on the couch in a sec."

House realized what she meant, grabbed a newspaper and slipped it under her butt. Putting his mouth on her ear he whispered, "Now lay back and relax while I make you come." He wanted to see her entire body when it was wracked with climatic spasms, but the bra blocked his view of her breasts. Pushing his hand behind her back, he unsnapped the bra and pulled it off to reveal the already firm and erect pink and plump nipples. His mouth latched onto one of them, sucking softly until they got even harder. He drew his hand lightly over her right knee and up to her right thigh, softly massaging the sensitive inner thigh before stroking the hair around her slit. He started thumbing her clit.

"Do you know what it feels like?" He asked.

"No." Maggie whispered back, her breath catching from the teasing of his hand.

"First of all, it's wet. A warm, sticky, wet that covers the entire surface. My thumb is playing with your sweet little clit. At first it's hard to find it, but as you get excited it swells, rearing up for attention. I can't ignore it; it won't let me. I rub and rub." He paused to kiss her, his tongue touching and teasing her. "Your clit gets bigger just like I do when I get excited. I can smell your sex. It's a heavy musk that makes me hard just thinking of it. You have a nice smell Maggie, not unpleasant at all. I'm rubbing, feeling your body twitch with each pleasurable sensation. It's hot. I'm going to take two fingers and slip them inside like this."

House pushed up, into Maggie as far as the long fingers could go. Maggie's whole body jerked up as he rammed over and over, each time making sure his thumb touched and played with Maggie's clit. Faster and faster, the fingers fucked her as her juices trickled down his hand. He took his fingers out and replaced it with his dick, now stiff from watching what he was doing to Maggie. He pulled her up onto his lap, so he could watch her breasts bounce as she held onto his neck and bounced up and down on his shaft. House watched and felt a surge of electricity that made him even harder. He slapped her cheeks and then grabbed them in his hands. The feeling was overwhelming. Maggie grabbed his shoulders as her eyes flew open. His dick was throbbing and at the angle she was screwing, her clit rubbed against his cock and her own fingers, bringing her to an orgasm so full of fire and pleasure that she thought her groin and breasts would explode. House exploded with her. The throb of her vagina gripping and freeing, gripping and freeing, made him dizzy. He didn't think he had any semen left, but that wasn't the case. He could feel his balls push the sperm through his dick like a pump. With each pump came a wave of tingling pleasure that caused him to reflexively pull Maggie into his chest. Maggie was so absorbed in her own orgasm that she hardly felt the arms around her ribs pushing and pulling her up and down like a piston over a rod, pumping out the last of his orgasm. Within seconds they both collapsed into a sweaty pile, unable to talk, unable to move.

Minutes passed House looked at Maggie, her chest still heaving faster than normal, "We should invite the Sisters over more often." Maggie slapped his shoulder and then grabbed him up, holding him against her breasts. When they finally untangled, Maggie got up and to her astonishment House started laughing at her. "Mags, I love your ass; you know that right? But I'm afraid the face of Boris Yeltsen staring up at me when I take you from behind is going to be a big turn off."

"What are you talking about?"

House took Maggie upstairs to the full length mirror in her bedroom and turned her so she could see her right cheek. Imprinted in gray newstype was a clear impression of Boris Yeltsen, apparently having rubbed off when House slipped the newspaper under Maggie. They both laughed so hard that Maggie had to run and pee. House washed his hands and then started the shower. He was exhausted. This was the fourth day in a row in which he had engaged in marathon sex. His penis was starting to rub raw, especially from Maggie. She was tighter than the others, causing more friction over his already sensitive member. He cleaned it delicately as he heard Maggie step into the shower behind him.

"Jesus Greg, your dick looks raw." She studied it and then realized what it meant, sending a wave of anger through her.

He saw her anger, "Maggie, it's all yours from now on. Okay? You get to take it out for a stroll whenever you want."

She chuckled, soaped him up and let him return the favor. She was becoming familiar with every inch of his body, the moles, the occasional freckle, the brown curly hair around his nipples. She soaped his pubic hair, noting the darker auburn brown frame it created for the now inflamed penis dangling between his legs. She touched it and he immediately pulled his groin away from her, wincing from the pain.

"Wow! I guess God's playing a joke on you. Giving you all the sex you can ask for has its down side I see."

"God didn't do this. Your tight muscles did. Christ, I was okay until I got inside you. You're like a vise grip."

"Well, Tom told me he liked that."

House wasn't expecting a reference to her past, limited, experience. "Well, it wouldn't be so bad if I hadn't already been through Rachel and Meggie. Which reminds me, we can't be going bareback anymore or you're going to get pregnant. Since you won't put a saddle on, I guess that means I need to buy some condoms."

"That's what Tom did."

He threw his hands up in frustration, "Stop referring to having sex with Tom!"

"I was just saying that he solved the pregnancy dilemma by taking birth control into his own hands."

They were toweling down, "I don't get it. Why is Meggie on the pill and you won't take it?"

"Meggie's a half-ass Catholic." Maggie stopped and thought about her recent transgressions, including the premarital sex she had just willingly participated in, "I try to follow what I can; what's really important. And the Church has made it very clear that birth control is not allowed. Beside Greg, you'd make beautiful babies."

He smirked, "Keep that thought to yourself."

She started getting dress, "Don't you want little Greggies running around?"

He shook his head as he put his boxers on. "Why? How many do you want?"

"Six."

"_Six! Jesus Christ Mags!"_

Maggie was hurt, "Well, I'd settle for four. Couldn't you see four? Two boys, two girls, all with your blue eyes?"

"And your temper? No thanks. I don't even know if I could get my mind around one, let alone four. You do know that as a doctor, four kids will mean you'll be so tired, you won't even know when you've had an orgasm."

"Not if they're like that last one. Greg, I've never felt anything like that before."

He was pleased with himself. He'd been told he was a good lover, but for some reason, coming from Maggie's lips, made him really happy. "Well, there's more where that came from Mags."

"Okay, I know this is a cliché, but – was it good for you?"

He started laughing. "Maggie, Maggie, you're a novice, but there's nothing boring or unsatisfactory about having sex with you. You're definitely in my top three."

She narrowed her eyes, wanting to know who was the top one and if she knew her. But she said nothing, not wanting to sound desperate of if she cared. She just knew that before she was done, he'd be swearing she was number one in his book.

He could tell she was mad again. He knew that the competitiveness in Maggie would make her want to be number one. He also knew she'd be up for anything if she thought she'd reach the coveted first place. House smiled to himself, Maggie was his favorite lay. He'd had better technically, but, between her body, the spontaneity and her fire, the sex was the most exciting he had ever had. House went out and picked up some Philadelphia Cheese Steaks and fries. They ate and by 8:30 pm they were in Maggie's bed, fast asleep.


	17. Chapter 10 Part I Too Good to Be True

**Maggie's Story **

**Chapter 10**

**Too Good to Be True**

I spent the next month enjoying being home during the days taking care of Greg. I know it doesn't sound very modern enjoying taking care of a man, but it was something I was used to doing and knew that I could do well. I kept my father and brother in line all my life. I did Greg's laundry, cooked his meals, made the beds, picked up after him and spread my legs at the mere mention of sex. I was praying all the time for my sins. First, I was having sex outside of marriage, but second, I was confused. I loved sex. I hadn't enjoyed it that much with Tom. But sometimes, just the smell of Greg's odor on his shirts as I was doing the laundry would make my nipples stand erect and my juices start flowing. This sounds nuts, but I can't tell you how many times I piled his dirty t-shirts in the middle of the bed and satisfied myself while breathing them in.

It was close to my birthday and Greg had been on one of his 48 hour shifts. I was grabbing the dirty clothes out of the hamper up into my arms when I got a whiff of one of his t-shirts. I immediately felt a tingle in my groin. I tried to ignore it, but as I pulled more clothes out and got more whiffs, my breasts started tingling. I stopped and inhaled, knowing this was a dangerous move for me. I was overwhelmed by the smell, lust began coursing through me. I grabbed a couple of his t-shirts and one of his shirts that had some left over cologne. I had stripped the bed so that all of the covers were on the floor, the only sheet left to strip was the fitted one. I lay down on the bed with his shirts and started to imagine his hands on my breasts, hips, inside me. I unzipped my jeans and pulled them down far enough to be able to slip my little friend, a small battery operated vibrator, between my legs. I mashed his clothes into my face while I turned on my little friend and placed it squarely on my clit. Within a minute I was bucking up uncontrollably, pulling my shirt up to reveal my breasts, rubbing them and pinching my nipples hard, all the time with Greg's t-shirt was on my face. I jerked up when the orgasm hit, then pushed the vibrator into my clit even harder. The orgasm started to climb through my body as I raised up in spasms of sexual release. The t-shirt fell off my face and I opened my eyes to see Greg, standing in the doorway, his hand down his pants and both of us moaning. The sight of him beating off to me, was hot. I dropped back on the bed, watching him watch me. The orgasm tingled through me, up to my scalp. I fell back, unable to move. Turning my head I could see Greg's body collapse against the jamb of the door. He was breathing hard and resting his head back, eyes closed. Taking a deep breath, he came over to the bed and crawled up on it with me.

He was laying on his back. Looking over, he said, "So that's what you do with all your free time?"

I giggled, "You caught me."

"What's with the t-shirts? Do you have a t-shirt fetish?"

I blushed, "It's the smell. Your smell makes me come sometimes."

His mouth dropped slightly open. I could tell this fascinated him. "You mean I could just lay here and stink up the room and you'd come?"

I laughed, "No. There's more to it than that. Your smell triggers thoughts of having sex with you. It's the thoughts that get me off, the smell is just a strong trigger."

He grinned while turning to cover me with his body. He nibbled my ear and then pulled back, looking at my face like he sometimes did. I always got the impression that Greg was studying me, as if he were mapping every curve, every nuance of my body. But there was more, he didn't just study my body, he studied who I was, like I was some biology experiment. He liked knowing what made me angry, happy, turned me on, got me off.

I touched the tip of his nose with my finger, "So seeing me masturbate turns you on?"

"That, my dear, would turn any man on. It's hot. I just couldn't figure out why you had t-shirts over your face, I thought it might be some Catholic guilt thing."

"Well, now you know; I have a dirty t-shirt fetish."

He shook his head as he continued to smile down at me, "I already knew you were kinky from your Yeltsin tattoo." He rolled off the bed, "I've got to wash my hands and give you my boxers to wash. Oh, by the way, we're going away for the weekend. I have tickets to Montreal."

"Canada?" I yelped.

He was in the bathroom, "Yeah, land of the Knucks."

I jumped up and ran to the bathroom, "But I don't have a passport!"

He started laughing, "You don't need one. Not for Canada."

"I've got to ask for the time off."

He jumped in the shower, "Then ask. Oh, and turn on the air conditioning. It's fucking hot in here."

I usually turned the a/c off when I was home alone and just kept the windows opened hoping for a breeze. The smell of fish from the Delaware River was pretty strong during the summer so the house always had that seaport smell. Greg had a hard time sleeping in the heat so we turned the a/c in the bedroom on. He had purchased a large air conditioner for the downstairs too, agreeing to pay an extra 50 if I'd keep it on when he was home.

We had a rhythm to our lives. In reality, we hardly saw each other during the week except when he would take a night shift. He liked night shifts for the extra money and because he didn't have to do too much work. He spent most of his time on the night shift reading journals and making a nuisance of himself on the various floors, trying to diagnose patients before other doctors did. On the nights when we both worked, we got off work at the same time, 2:00 am, meaning that by 3:00 am, I usually had him between my legs. He wasn't very inventive in the middle of the week. He just wanted to have a quick go and then get some sleep. Despite the frugal imagination, he always made sure I came too, something that endeared him to me. It was the weekends we both looked forward to. We usually had them off together, although Greg had to work one weekend each month. It was on the weekends that we would spend hours playing around in bed, finding new ways to make the other beg.

We went to Montreal and I loved it. We stayed at a reasonably priced hotel with a queen bed and plenty of towels for our frequent post-coital showers. After walking to the botanical gardens Saturday morning and then around Old Montreal, we rented bicycles and bicycled through the narrow cobblestone streets. Greg said it reminded him of Paris. I had to take his word for it since I had never been past the Jefferson Memorial. We spent time visiting museums, boutiques, sidewalk cafes and restaurants. Saturday night, after spending most of our time in a jazz club, we went back to the hotel. I'd had two glasses of champagne to Greg's five glasses of whiskey.

We were laying in bed, holding each other, Greg's head on my breasts. "Mags, when I finish my nephrology residency, I'm going to find a position in either Boston or Princeton, so we're going to have to find you an internship wherever I end up."

"Greg, we've been together just over a month, hardly a long term relationship. Let's not count our eggs."

"I know we'll always be together. We're like interlocking gears, we fit perfectly. Didn't you feel that last night when I was inside you?"

"Greg, we don't fit together perfectly. You're the guy who finds marriage an archaic ritual and children the bane of existence. I'm the girl that can't imagine her life without a husband and kids. Those are two fundamental areas of disagreement. You're already 31, it's not like you're going to suddenly wake up one morning and say, 'Gee, I'd like a wife and four children please.'"

He snickered, "Mags, marriage isn't a word, it's a sentence. You can't really want four ankle biters. You'd have no legs left. I figure we could get a couple of dogs. At least you can board them when you go away or put them down if something goes wrong."

I didn't get angry, he was drunk and it never makes sense to try and reason with a drunk. I knew that, despite our refusal to address the subject, this would be what would destroy us -- our basic outlook on relationships. If we could solve the marriage and kid question, we _would be perfect_ for each other. We both enjoyed a lot of the same things: a bet on the races; a good Irish whiskey; a zealous fuck; and, an evening in front of the tv. I could discuss medicine, law, history, and social events with him. I was ignorant when it came to travel, but not to the nuances of different societies, a subject I had studied since I was a child and which I had majored in at college. I loved trying to figure things out and solving puzzles. All of these things we shared. But there was no denying they were heavily outweighed by what we didn't share, my desire for marriage, kids and my relationship with God. Still, I didn't have the strength to end it before it ended itself. It felt too good and I was in no rush to get married while I was in med school.

When we got home from Montreal I had had three weeks of summer before school started. The first block of med school in the second year is Advanced Microbiology and Infectious Diseases. This meant we'd be spending a little more time in the hospital, which of course, was exciting to any med student.

Greg was having a rough time at work. He wasn't getting along with his new supervisor, and since he was already on probation for my abortion, he couldn't afford to piss anyone off. The new supervisor wanted to rein in Greg, keep him from nosing in on other departments. But it was hard for him to stop Greg since doctors in other departments had started relying on him to help them.

I'd go down and have lunch with him on occasion and after awhile, the nurses at the front desk knew who I was and let me through the door with just a wave. We had sex in one of the exam rooms one day, but we were almost caught. We both decided that, with his residency being so tenuous, we needed to behave. His new supervisor, Dr. Coldwater seem to like me. When I would wait for Greg to get done with a consult or patient, I would wait in the office he shared with the other resident, Marsha Winston, a rather plain woman, happily married, who didn't understand why a nice girl like me was involved with Greg House. While I waited, Dr. Coldwater frequently came in to leave Greg notes, stopping to say hi and to talk to me. He suggested I apply for a residency in his department after my internship. I was flattered, told him I'd consider it, but I didn't really have an interest in nephrology.

"You know he has the hots for you." Marsha said one day after Dr. Coldwater left.

I shook my head, "Nah, he's just being nice."

She laughed, "Coldwater asked me yesterday, 'What's a smart and beautiful girl like her doing with a jerk like Gregory House?' I said I didn't know, mainly because I think you're nuts, Maggie. I really don't know why you're with Greg House. But Coldwater added, 'I wonder if she'd go out with someone twice her age?'"

I tilted my head and looked at Marsha, "He can't mean go out with him?"

A male voice boomed, "He certainly does."

I turned and saw Greg standing behind me in his lab coat, stethoscope hanging from his pocket. He put his arms around me from behind and pulled my back into his chest, hugging me and kissing the back of my ear.

I laughed, "He's just being nice."

Greg shook his head, "He wants you for himself. I watch him, his eyes follow everywhere you go. It makes sense; I saw a photo of his ex-wife. Red-head with green eyes, freckles. He likes those Irish lasses."

Marsha nodded, "Greg, be back by 1:30, I have an appointment with administration."

We went to lunch downstairs. Greg watched me and smiled when I put a little too much food in my mouth, "If Coldwater could see my little chipmunk now. You know, I think the only reason he keeps me is so he can see you from time to time."

"Don't even joke about that, it's not funny."

"I'm serious. He and I got into a huge fight this morning. I thought he was going to tell me to pack up, but Marsha intervened, telling me that you were on the phone. His entire demeanor changed and he asked if you were stopping by for lunch."

I didn't believe him. I was 22 years old and just couldn't see a man of 40ish falling for me. I flipped Greg off, which amused him, and we ate the rest of our lunch.


	18. Chapter 10 Part II Too Good To Be True

Maggie's Story

Chapter 10

Part II

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We fought. Despite the fact that I enjoyed taking care of him, I quickly realized that he was taking advantage of me. So we fought about his dirty clothes not finding their way to the hamper, his crumbs not being wiped up, his books and journals being left all over the house. I made it clear to Greg that I wasn't and never would be his maid. I'd share the responsibilities, but not let him walk over me. It pissed him off when I gave him notice and raised his rent 50 to cover the cost of my cousin to come in and clean for me. It was a huge risk, since it was obvious from the condition of my bed in the mornings and his things in my room, that Greg was sleeping in my room. I sat her down and explained that I wanted her to keep my relationship with Greg quiet; my brother would be told eventually.

My cousin, Claire, shook her head, "What the hell are you thinking? If your brother finds out, you're screwed. If he finds out that you're sleeping with a guy who isn't Catholic…I don't want to be around. Maggie, it's simple, you can't tell him, he'll have your boyfriend's legs broken or worse."

"I doubt that. He owes my boyfriend a favor, a big favor, so I figure he'll at least give him a heads up to get out of town."

"Do you love this guy Maggie?"

"Claire, it isn't whether I love him. The quick answer is yes, I love him. But, that doesn't begin to answer the real questions about our relationship. There are so many questions and no answers. It's very complicated."

The day I started back to school, August 13th, all hell broke loose.

At 5 am, my brother stopped by on his way to a meeting in New York, to give me my tuition check. He used his key to open the door and come in, realizing I would probably still be asleep. He slipped upstairs past Greg's bedroom to my room and slowly opened the door. He whispered loudly, "Mags, Mags!"

I tried to come up from my deep sleep, but by the time I surfaced I knew I was probably too late, Greg would be reaching for the light to see who was in our bedroom. My eyes opened just as the light went on.

Jack was confused at first. But then his brow furred and his eyes lit up, "_Jesus Fucking Christ! What the hell is this Maggie Magdalena Malone?" _ My brother crossed the room in two steps, giving Greg a vicious right cross before I could throw my skimpily clad body over him. "_Get off him!" _Jack pulled me off Greg and threw me across the room.

Greg was dazed, not knowing what the hell had just happened. He always had a hard time waking up and I'm sure he hadn't expected a right cross first thing in the morning. There was blood coming from his nose and split lip dripping all over the bedding. I saw Jack going for Greg again. I jumped on his back and pulled so he couldn't get off a blow. It gave Greg time to roll to the other side of the bed and jump up and away. Jack pulled me off and threw me again, knocking me against the wall. He started around the bed to get to Greg and I ran at him. He threw his fist out to stop me, hitting my right upper jaw. Greg, seeing I had been hurt, raised his fists, ready to defend both of us.

I screamed, holding my hands up to stop him, "Jack, stop it, stop it. You can't do that Jack. It's not his fault. He wanted to tell you, I said no. Please Jack, I love him."

Everything stopped. Greg stopped in his tracks, Jack in his.

"Mags, you love this guy? No offense Greg, but you're a real ass when you want to be. And, well, you're not Catholic." There was a pause as everyone tried to catch their breath. Jack looked at Greg, "You know you can't marry my sister in the Church until you convert?"

Greg was trying to analyze what this all meant. "Huh? Who said anything about getting married?"

I closed my eyes and hung my head. All Greg had to do was agree with Jack and we could have diffused the situation right away. Jack was not going to take lightly to the fact that we were sleeping together with no intentions of getting married. When I opened my eyes, I saw Jack take off after Greg again, his fists raised. My brother is shorter than Greg, but brawnier. I'd seen Jack take down three or four guys on his own in a brawl. He wasn't someone to mess with. So imagine my surprise when I saw Jack go flying across the room and Greg shaking his hand out.

He looked at me, wincing from pain, "Damn, throwing a punch hurts almost as much as getting punched. Are you okay?"

I nodded and bent over Jack to see if he was okay. He was getting up and staring in shock at Greg. Jack wasn't used to getting knocked down by anyone.

"Jack, it's no use. Greg and I tried to stay away from each other for a long time, but we kept finding ourselves wanting to be together. Try to imagine Theresa being a Protestant. Would it keep you from loving her?"

He screwed his face in anger, "Hell, yes!"

I knew he was just saying it to make a point, but I could tell that he was starting to calm down. He looked up at Greg, "So you have no plans of marrying my sister?"

House snickered, "I have no plans of getting married _period_."

"Kids?"

House shook his head, "No kids."

"Maggie? What are you doing with him? He wants nothing that you want. He doesn't even share your faith."

"Christ, don't you think I know that? It isn't forever. It's just for now. We know what we're in for later. I just can't bear to be without him right now. He not only saved me the night in the pub, but he's helped me through the fallout. He's been good to me in his own way Jack. Please just stay out of it and it will all work itself out."

I saw a glimpse of understanding in his eyes. He could see that I was both happy and miserable, the favorite state of the Irish. He could see in my eyes that I understood, more than anyone, what lay ahead of us. He just had to trust me.

"Alright Mags, but—"He looked menacingly over at Greg, "you better treat my sister right or you'll be a corpse in front of the local."

Greg had managed to stop the bleeding from his nose. I ran down and got some frozen vegetables for all of us. When I got back and handed them out, we all started laughing, we each had a huge black eye.

"Great, this is my first day back to school and I have to tell them my brother gave me a black eye."

Jack looked contrite, "I'm sorry Mags, I didn't want to hurt you. I wanted to hurt that son of a bitch." He nodded at Greg, who was now getting ready to shower.

By the time things got sorted, Greg left for work and I was left with my very unhappy brother. I was worried that he might not give me my tuition check which had been due two days ago. I poured my brother his coffee as he continued to hold his vegetables to his face.

"Great, I've got to tell the guys my girlfriend's boyfriend did this to me."

I shrugged, having no sympathy for him, "Well, it's better than having to say I gave it to you."

He chuckled and then grabbed my hand, "Mags, you know he's going to break your heart?"

I looked down at his rough, beat-up hand holding my smooth freckled one.

"He won't marry you. He's too selfish."

I smiled, "He's not selfish, really. If you only knew how well he treats me when we're alone. I know it will probably end badly, but I'm too weak or maybe stupid, to end it now."

"I don't understand, but I do know you'd be better off breaking up now. Let me call Tom. He broke up with that girl in California. Every time he calls he moans that he made a mistake with you. I think if you just talked to him, he'd come crawling back."

I was stunned to hear that Tom was single again and missing me. There was a part of me that wanted him back simply because he had dumped me. It would solve so many problems; it'd make the whole world, well at least my world, happy if I'd take Tom back.

"Not yet, Jack. I'm not ready to give Greg up yet."

"Okay, Mags. But, when you're ready, just let me know."

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School started and I had to go back to working weekends so that I could study during the week. It meant that Greg and I saw each other at night, but I spent most of the evening in my bedroom studying. Greg and I started going out together in public and, after a few tongue waggings and several people telling me that he wasn't good enough for me, we were accepted in the community as a couple. Even my cousin's christening for her daughter came with both our names handwritten on the envelope.

Greg wasn't one who enjoyed formal family occasions, but he went for me. I admit, I was surprised that he did go to them. He was pretty stubborn when it came to doing things he didn't want to do. But, occasionally, he'd make a gesture out of his affection for me, by doing something that went against his grain. He once even gave up his weekly Lacrosse game to take me to my Great Uncle Cornelius's birthday party, which even I wasn't looking forward to.

I attended his Lacrosse games whenever I could and was always impressed and proud to see how talented and graceful he was on the field. I didn't really understand the game that well. I just understood that the entire team groaned when they heard he was missing the game to go to a birthday party.

The bedroom was a bone of contention. Greg used sex as a release for the tension he was feeling at work. I preferred sleep for the same purpose. I hate to say it, but our sex life went from unpredictable both in time and space to a schedule. We had sex whenever we both got home from work at 2 am on the same nights and either on Saturday and Sunday mornings. Occasionally, I'd let him initiate sex on Wednesday nights, if I wasn't too tired or worried about school. He complained that he had a 22 year old girlfriend and he was only getting laid twice, maybe three times a week. I felt guilty, but more than guilty, I felt tired.

Greg wasn't happy about my schedule and my lack of time with him. He claimed that he was lonely. We fought over it, but usually the fights would blow over and we'd make up, meaning he'd get make-up sex. I think occasionally he'd start a fight just to screw me later. Making up usually concluded with both of us admitting that we were taking out our worries and troubles on the other. In reality, Greg and I were both our happiest when we were together, alone in the house.

He often confided in me the problems he was having at work. In return, I shared with him my concerns about med school, and surprisingly he gave me excellent advice, although it was frequently couched in metaphors, obscenities and sexual innuendo.

We went to the Resident's Christmas Party again and he bought me a dress to wear. I enjoyed the party, but I could tell that Greg was not as happy in the Nephrology department as he had previously been. He made rude remarks about half the doctors, complained about their pettiness, and talked profusely about what he was going to do when he left Temple. Surprisingly, he liked the Temple Infectious Disease Department and the doctors who worked in it.

When I returned to the table after dancing with one of the doctors, Greg seemed angry, upset. He admitted that while I had been dancing, he had exchanged words with Coldwater. Apparently, Coldwater was upset over some extremely expensive tests that Greg had ordered for a patient that had minor renal involvement. The tests lead to the diagnosis of the patient, but it ate into the Nephrology budget. I kissed him while I fixed his bowtie and let him vent. He reached down and started to fondle my breast at the table. I was embarrassed, afraid people would see him.

"Greg, don't do that, people can see."

He smiled mischievously, dropping the hand and running it up my leg to the top of my thigh high nylons. The table cloth covered a lot of what was going on, but still, his arm looked awkwardly placed. He leaned forward, pretending to whisper in my ear and began to rub the crotch of my panties, nibbling my ear at the same time.

"Greg, not here, people will see. I'm a med student, I can't afford to look like a slut."

"You're not a slut, you're my girlfriend and I'm just giving you an early Christmas present."

He began rubbing even harder, finally stopping to slip a finger under the elastic of my panty leg. I could feel his finger searching for my clit. I was embarrassingly turned on to the point that my crotch was now wet and my clit was swollen in expectation.

"Ah, there she is. Oh yeah, she's a very happy little clit, isn't she?" He continued to rub. "Maggie, you're so wet." He looked around, "Come with me." He pulled his hand out, grabbed my wrist and dragged me out the side door.

We wandered around for a few minutes. Greg took us to a section of the conference hall where the rooms were not in use. The bathrooms were empty. Opening the women's room, he checked inside, found it empty and then started kissing me. There was a lounge with two arm chairs, a counter for putting on makeup and a full length mirror. The walls were papered in material with padding. The toilets and sinks were just off the lounge in a separate, brightly lit room.

I realized that he wanted a quick, hot, semi-public screw. I figured the sooner I got him off, the less likely we'd be discovered. Greg pushed me against the wall and started giving me open mouth kisses with his tongue dipping in and out of my mouth. I felt down and he was as hard as I had ever felt him. I unzipped the trousers and freed him. Dropping to my knees I took him in my mouth and started to lick the shaft of his dick. He grabbed my head, holding it still and then began a slow pumping action into my mouth. It was strange, not doing anything, but letting him use me as simply a receptacle for his very pink and glistening organ. He stopped as abruptly as he had started. I tried to continue, but he quickly pulled out, not letting me bring him to climax. He picked me up, pinning me on the wall about a foot off the floor. Reaching under my dress, he pulled on my panties, my new, expensive, panties and they gave way in shreds. He threw them on the floor. Then he pulled my legs around his waist and, still using my back against the wall as leverage, penetrated me, with a deep moan of satisfaction.

"Damn Maggie, I never get tired of your body."

He pushed me up and down against the wall with each thrust, slowly at first, then faster as he reached his orgasm. I heard something and looked over to see two formally dressed women, young, maybe my age, come in, stop to look at us and then rush out the door. Greg saw them, but did nothing to stop. He was already coming, grunting into my shoulder as he did. I could feel him deep inside of me as I clamped down around his shaft, making the friction between us almost unbearably pleasurable for him. He stopped, dipped down to pull out and then carefully lowered me to the floor.

"Two women saw us." I told him.

"I know, they're two nurses from the hospital."

I closed my eyes and shook my head, "Great."

He chuckled, "Who cares? They're just nurses."

"It will be all over the hospital tomorrow that we were screwing in the bathroom."

"Probably. Now you're turn."

I wasn't in the mood, "Don't bother."

He reached down and pushed my dress up again and slipped a finger inside of me. "I can't let you go away mad. Besides, this is one of the best bits. I love your body when you come. It's a textbook in orgasmic reaction. Your toes curl, your body flushes, your thighs and abdomen tighten, your heart races and your hips follow wherever my fingers or tongue goes, just like a puppy. I love fucking you Maggie, it makes all of this crap I endure worthwhile."

He could have been reciting the Gettysburg Address and it wouldn't have mattered. I was already responding to his magic under my skirt. My mouth was open and my eyes were closed as he continued to finger me. I know this because he was able to slip his tongue into my mouth without touching my lips.

He snickered and then stopped abruptly, picking me up and sitting me in one of the chairs. He bent down and stuck his head under my petticoat. I looked up and realized I was facing the door and we would be the first thing anyone who entered saw. But, I didn't ask him to stop, especially not after his warm tongue found my clit. I grabbed the arm rests and swallowed hard as his tongue drew circles around my nub. I finally altered my position, forcing the tongue to address my swollen clit.

I heard a chortle when I did this and he asked, "We're a little impatient, aren't we?"

I said nothing, pushing my body into his tongue. I was already so worked up from everything that had gone on, that my entire pelvic region felt backed up with unreleased pleasure. I started that roller coaster climb to the peak, the waves of pleasure just starting to come to the surface. He picked up the pace as my thighs contracted. I was starting over the hill, screaming my head off as his tongue fucked me. The door opened, the two women had returned with their friends. They watched for a few seconds, laughed and then closed the door. At that moment, the entire hospital could have come in to watch. All I knew was that I was getting one hell of an orgasm I'd ever had from the man I loved.


	19. Chapter 10 Part III Too Good to Be True

Chapter 10- Part III

Too Good to Be True

Christmastime was around the corner and I was sick with excitement. I had taken some clothes to the cleaners and found a receipt from a jewelry store in Greg's suit pocket. I told myself not to get excited, but we had been getting along so well, I thought that maybe he had changed his mind about marriage. It had been five months, longer than I think both of us expected, and we were still happy together. Of course we fought. Greg and I seemed to constantly snap at each other, but it reminded me of the way I always fought with my brother, nothing serious. Greg seemed okay with our fighting. We soon got over our spats and, most of the time, we laughed and enjoyed each other's company.

I asked myself what I'd say if he asked me to marry him. I didn't have to think long. I wanted, with every fiber of my soul to be with him. He was a challenge, but we both seemed to thrive on that challenge. I think he thought of me the same way; he often talked about the future as if I was a part of it even thought I knew that I wasn't the easiest person to live with. My brother told me once, that living with me was like living with a Nazi Concentration Camp officer, "You vill do eet my vay or I vill scream until you are deaf or ignore you until you starve."

The truth was that, because I had lost my mother and father at a young age, my life had felt like it was out of control. I needed to have some control over things or I felt scared, unsafe. Greg's self-awareness and huge ego made me feel safe, like he could beat back the bogeyman. As a compliment to that, I think Greg liked someone to control him, give him some structure; otherwise, he would spin off into different self-destructive directions. I was young, but I was very aware that Greg and I both needed each other in our odd ways.

I loved Greg so much, it hurt to think of a moment in my life without him. Yet, until I saw the jewelry receipt, I never thought we'd be able to bridge the fact that I wanted to get married. I needed the structure, the union of marriage and of course, I wanted children. I started to dream of the day that we would have little blue-eyed, long-fingered, curious ankle biters running around. The fact that Greg had accepted and embraced my need for marriage, made me love him even more.

On Christmas Eve, I was so sick with anxiety that I couldn't eat. Greg kept watching me like I was being held together with baling wire.

"Mags, are you okay?" He put his arm around me and held me.

I rested my head against his chest as we stood in the dining room. I could hear his steady heartbeat, lulling me into a calmer mood. I could smell his musk and feel the muscles in his arms holding me softly and gently to his chest.

"I just have a lot to do for Christmas." I said. It was a truthful response; I did have a lot to do. I was going to cook dinner for two of my cousins, their families, an uncle, Theresa and my brother. Everyone was bringing a dish, but I still had to cook the turkey, stuffing, ham, glaze, potatoes, gravy, biscuits and pies.

"You took on too much. Maybe we should make some of it tonight instead of going to the party."

I shook my head. I was looking forward to the party at the American Legion. It was a semi-formal event for families from 6-8 pm and then the kids would be sent next door with some babysitters and the adults would enjoy the rest of the evening. They were bringing in a dance band, one of the locals and I was excited about seeing all my friends. With my schedule, I rarely got to see anyone who didn't come into the pub on the weekends.

He tilted back to look at me, "I was thinking; maybe you'd like your gift so you could wear it tonight?"

My heart started racing wildly and I knew I better sit down or I'd probably pass out. I tried to sound nonchalant, "If you think so, fine."

He kissed the top of my head and went scrambling up the stairs. He yelled down, "It's not the only thing I got you, but it's your biggest gift. I think you'll see why."

I was shaking and trying hard to control myself. The receipt had been for 2,800. I could only think of one thing that could cost that much. Jack had just bought Theresa an engagement ring for Christmas, he was going to ask her on Christmas to marry him. He told me he paid close to 3,500 for her wedding set.

"Close your eyes and hold out your hands."

I did as I was told and heard him come down the stairs. I could feel the depression in the floor as he approached. Sitting on the sofa, he placed the present in my hands. I could tell right away from the shape of the box that it wasn't a ring. I thought I would throw up, but I kept my cool. I had to appear surprised, happy.

"Open your eyes and open the gift."

I opened my eyes and saw how pleased he was with himself. His excitement delighted me; I found it enchanting. He seemed both happy and content. I looked at the wrapped gift and giggled with glee.

He was squirming like a child, "Come on! Open it."

I laughed and started to tear off the holly leaf wrapping paper. It was the size of a necklace box. The box itself was a metallic silver from the same jeweler that my brother used. I opened it. It was a necklace and earring set with rubies surrounded by diamonds. I was impressed. It was both delicate and sophisticated. Most jewelry overwhelms my short body, but this would look perfect.

"Oh God Greg, it's so beautiful. I've never seen anything so lovely. Thank you, honey." I looked up at him and shook my head, "It's too much."

He grinned, "Your brother got me a deal, don't worry."

I figured my brother probably got the jeweler to give it to Greg for 10 above cost. The set would have been worth double at a regular jewelry store in the mall. I pulled him over on the couch and hugged him, kissing him on the lips and hugging him again. I really, really loved him. But, as much as I loved the necklace, my heart was bleeding. It was in that instant that I knew that I would eventually have to say goodbye to Greg House.

I wore the set that night and received so many compliments that my spirits were lifted. I kept fingering the necklace and smiling at Greg. He was gentle and loving all night long. We danced every slow dance and a few fast ones. I enjoyed seeing my friends and had managed to put aside my disappointment for the evening.

Christmas morning I hauled out Greg's gift from the basement. He was over the moon when he opened his eyes. I had bought him a keyboard. I couldn't afford a piano, but I thought that the keyboard would be portable and easier for him to use. He kissed me hard, holding me for several minutes in his arms, both of us swaying back and forth to our own music. He gave me a few cd's and headphones for my Walkman. I saved the gift I had worked the hardest on for last.

I realized when he opened it how ridiculously sentimental it was, especially for Greg House. But he smiled sweetly at me.

"I like it. Thanks." He looked through it.

I had managed to make a photo album for him. I had padded, wrapped and stitched it in aqua satin on the front with a heart cut out and framed in lace. In the heart was a photo of us taken at the pub. Inside of the photo/scrap book was a picture of the two of us at the first Resident's Christmas Party. Even in that photo we looked like we were in love. Next to it, I had drawn, like a lovesick schoolgirl, a heart with our names and an arrow through it. The first two pages were photos of both of us as kids and teens. I had scrounged up a few photos of Greg that I had found in his boxes. The next four pages had photos of both of us together or with friends. I wrote out a caption for each one, noting the dates of when they were taken and who was in the picture. When you got to the blank pages, there was a note with lace and hearts all over it that said, "The remainder of this album is to record our coming years together." After last night, I was embarrassed by what I had written. I wondered just how many years that would be.

Christmas Day was extremely painful. The dinner went well, the food was delicious and it was great having our family over. Just as we served the desert, my brother stood up.

"I'd like to have your attention. Theresa and I have known each other since she was in diapers and I was a toddler toddling around in my toy car. She's been in and out of my clutches ever since. More recently, I've been in hers. What can I say? She's a great lady. She puts up with me—"We all laughed. "—She loves me and keeps me sane. I do some stupid things and she's always there to tell me just how stupid they were. We fight, but we always make up. My life is never boring when I'm with her. You know, marriage isn't an easy decision. But it's the right decision when two people love each other as much as we do. Marriage is that statement to the world that, no matter what, this is the person I chose to fight life's battles with. She's one helluv a warrior and I couldn't think of anyone as fierce, except maybe Mags –"Everyone turned and laughed at me, "—to go through those battles with. I know with Theresa on my side I'll win." He paused for effect, "And at least I know I won't have to go up against her. So—" Jack pulled out the ring, "—Theresa, an bposfaidh tu me?"

Theresa stood up, tears streaming down her cheeks, nodding her head, "Tá grá agam duit, Jack. Yes, I will."

There were tears and happy wishes. Some of my tears were for me. As much as I was rejoicing for my brother, I was grieving for myself. I looked at Greg, who was staring at me as if he could read my soul.

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He arrived home from the Resident's Awards dinner a few hours before I got home from work. It was the second Saturday in March, just before St. Patrick's Day. He was sitting on the couch, his tie askew, top buttons unbuttoned, leaning over a glass of Scotch.

He looked up at me without smiling. I ran over to the heater, trying to unthaw my freezing legs and hands. March had been unusually cold. After a few minutes, I hung up my coat and came over to sit down. Leaning back on the sofa, I sat silently next to him.

"I'm sick of having a girlfriend that I never get to see. I might as well be dating a pet rock."

I sighed, this wasn't our first or even our sixth argument over my hours, "I'm in med school Greg; you remember med school, right? I have to work too, I need money to live."

"Can't your brother follow some truck and see what falls off?"

I snarled, "Funny, ha,ha."

He took a drink, "I had to make excuses for you. Coldwater was beside himself because you weren't there. I had to promise that you'd go with me to his party the Friday after next."

"A Friday? Greg, I have to work. You know that. Why do you do these things?"

"Maggie, you have to go. I'm really close to being fired. He hates it when I get asked by others for a consult and he doesn't. He's jealous. You're the only card I hold. I need for you to attend that party and keep him happy."

I snapped my head forward, "Keep him happy? What do you mean, keep him happy?"

He snapped in a moment of frustration, "Soothe his ego, make him feel good, hell, give him head…I need to keep this job."

I took in a deep breath, "My God, you don't really mean…"

He screwed up his face and shook his head, "Of course I don't mean it literally." He turned to look at me, "Maggie, really, I need for you to come with me."

I could see he wasn't kidding. Things must be getting bad if he was begging me to come as his last hope. I looked down and saw a plaque on the coffee table. I picked it up and smiled.

"_Special Recognition to Gregory House, M.D., Resident, Nephrology, for extraordinary work in the field of Infectious Diseases."_ I turned and looked at him, "Infectious diseases? But, you're in nephrology?"

"Yeah, that plaque was the icing on the cake. It's the only time that a Resident in another specialty has been given an award outside of his specialty. Coldwater's pissed."

I could see what he meant. Coldwater wouldn't see it as House being a gifted doctor that Coldwater should encourage. He'd see it as if House was giving the best of himself to another specialty.

"Who received the Nephrology Award?"

"Marsha. This is where it gets worse. Marsha got up to the podium and told the entire audience that I deserved it. I think her exact words were, 'He may be an ass, but he's a brilliant ass and I can't even wash his feet when it comes to understanding nephrology. It's sad when people let personality get in the way of recognizing talent.'"

I giggled, "Oh my God. Good for Marsha. I didn't think she had it in her."

"She's decided to go back to Internal Medicine, so she could care less what the Nephrologists think about her."

I thought it through, "If you think I can help you by going to the party, I'll go. I'll get the night off and go."

He turned and searched my eyes, "Thanks Mags."

"I'm cold and I'm tired, I need to get to bed." I started up the stairs.

"Mags."

"What?"

"Tonight Dr. Feldman asked me if you were my girlfriend. He said you were incredibly gifted and would make a great epidemiologist."

Feldman had been one of my clinic instructors, "That doesn't sound very impressive."

Greg laughed at me, "Feldman ran WHO and consults with the CDC. Believe me, that's a great compliment. He said you took an elective block from him."

"It fit in with my background in Archeology."

"He wants you to go see him at the end of April, he might have a summer internship for you."

"What?"

"Just go see him."

I was too tired and too cold to be excited. Little did I know that the conversation we just had would send me on the path that the rest of my life would take.


	20. Chapter 10 Part IV Too Good to Be True

**CHAPTER 10**

**TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE PART IV**

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The following two weeks, I not only went to school, turned in two papers, and had a late midterm, but ended up working both Thursday nights to get the Friday off. I was physically and emotionally wrecked. Friday, I tried to take a nap before we went out, but Greg kept coming up and making noise or waking me for some obtuse reason after another. It was obvious he was doing this to get my attention, which he did, I finally snapped at him.

He barked back, "I just thought we could have a little fun before we go. If I know you, you'll get home and be too tired to screw."

We hadn't made in love in almost a week. Mostly because we were both working so much, but also, when I wasn't working, studying or going to school, cooking dinner, washing clothes and cleaning up, I was too tired and depressed to be enthusiastic about sex.

I tried to stay calm, but I was at the breaking point, "Greg, I'm trying to nap so that I can make it through tonight. I'm kind of tired."

"Yeah, I _know. _Don't you think I'm tired too?"

I looked up and he was leaning, arms crossed against the dresser. I knew the look. It was the one he gave me when I was disappointing him, or not giving him what he _needed. _I realized that the quickest way for me to get in a nap was to let him have sex and then he'd probably fall asleep with me. I sat up and began to take off my top and pants. I looked over at him and he was half grinning, half dazed. I think he expected a fight and instead, he was getting his way.

I sat on top of the bed in just my panties, waiting for him to catch up. He crawled in next to me, wearing nothing. He wasn't at full salute, clearly taken off guard by my quick surrender. He started fondling and sucking my breasts. I tried making encouraging noises to hurry things along. He pulled my panties down, reached over to his night stand and grabbed a rubber. He had asked me to dress him on several occasions, to test me, but I refused on principal. If he was going to use birth control, then it was his burden. Luckily, he'd stopped that game several months ago. I opened my legs and scooted down. I wasn't the least bit wet. When he felt me and I was dry, he jerked back and stared down at me. I'm sure I looked about as enthusiastic as a night watchman in a morgue. I could hardly muster the energy to open my legs, let alone be responsive.

I knew he was getting pissed at me, but I just wanted it over. I motioned to the night stand, "I have some KY Jelly in my lower drawer, I'll get it."

He said nothing back, but rolled onto his elbows. I watched as the rubber coated penis deflated like a helium balloon. "Christ, you could at least pretend to be interested."

I broke out in the tears of someone so exhausted that the only thing left inside were tears. "Please, please, just screw me. Get it over and let me sleep."

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, "Great, that's exactly what I want to hear, 'get it over.'"

I sat up and put my hand on his upper arm, "Honey, I'm sorry. I promise to try harder."

He ripped the condom off and stormed out of the room to the bathroom, flushing it down the toilet. I was bawling so hard when he came in that I couldn't see him through the tears. I could only hear the drawer open and close and then footsteps going out of the room. I cried myself to sleep, naked on top of my bed. Around 7:00 he turned the alarm on to wake me. I jolted upright, realizing I must have slept for a good three hours.

"Get dressed, we're supposed to be there in an hour."

I jumped in the shower and when I got out saw a dress sitting out on my bed. Greg was downstairs, but it was clear this was what he wanted me to wear. It was a very simple, long-sleeved, sweater dress in black, cut low in the front which showed off my breasts, especially if I wore a push-up bra. Since my breasts already rode round and high, any pushing up made them look as if they were going to spill out. I chose a strand of pearls that belonged to my mother along with earrings that had a single pearl and a single diamond. I looked in the mirror thinking that with my hair pinned up, I looked 25, maybe 26. The dress was a good choice, it showed off my curves and managed to hide my slightly round abdomen that caused me great embarrassment most of the time. Greg always said he liked my abdomen; it made me look slightly Rubenesque, feminine, fertile, but I hated it. Sadly, no matter how many exercises I did, the abdomen stayed in place. I put on deep red lipstick and thick black eyeliner, mascara and just a little concealer for the dark circles around my eyes.

When I went downstairs, he didn't say anything. He helped me into my black wool coat and we left. The party was in a large four story townhome that took up one fourth of the block. We entered the front and our coats were taken by staff. I had expected a rather formal affair, but the music was Hendrix, Clapton, Stones and loud. There were people snorting coke in the front room and as we made our way through, we found the game room where a pool game was ongoing and another group was sitting on leather couches talking. We came back out and entered a less formal room with books, obviously the library and media room. A large projection type television took up a portion of the back wall. In the opposite corner from the doors was a bar. The room was packed full of people. Greg went over and ordered champagne for me, whiskey for him. He said hello to a couple of doctors and then made his way back to me.

He looked at me. I must have seemed tired. He growled, "You could look a little more alive. Come with me." He reached out and grabbed my wrist.

"Where are we going?" I didn't sound very enthusiastic. All I could think of was that I wanted to get home soon and go to bed.

We went back into the living room, to the group around the cocaine. Someone cut a line out with a razor blade and Greg snorted it. They did a second one and he snorted it with the other nostril. I was dumbfounded. The man cut a line for me. I shook my head.

Greg bent down, "Maggie, it's just one hit. It's not like you're shooting heroin. It will pick you up, go ahead."

I looked at him and he seemed sincere, assuring me that I wouldn't get hooked. I bent down and inhaled the first line. I felt a pain in my head almost like when you eat ice cream too fast. I did the second line and the same thing happened. But within a few minutes my heart was racing and I was excited, energetic.

Greg perched himself on the arm of the sofa and nodded towards the hall, "Ah, look, our host. Apparently, he's seen you because he can't stop looking over here."

In less than a minute, Coldwater was next to me, looking down my dress, "Maggie, I'm glad you could make it. Hello House." He shook Greg's hand and then turned his attention back to me. "Maggie, have you ever seen an Andy Warhol up close and personal?"

"Only at the Art Museum."

"House mind if I take Maggie with me?"

Greg shook his head, took his drink and left, leaving me alone with Noah Coldwater.

I followed our host up the stairs. He opened the door to a small ensuite room. In the middle of the longest wall was a Warhol lithograph of a can of soup.

"I paid 250,000 for it."

I looked at it and felt stupid, not really understanding the significance of it. "Who would pay 250,000 for a can of soup?" I started giggling.

He started to laugh with me. "Silly, isn't it? Tragically, it's appreciated. I was offered 350,000 for it a few weeks ago."

We both started laughing even harder. "Here Maggie, come with me. He held my hand and took me into his bedroom and then straight into his bathroom. The bathroom was white and black marble with red accents. It was sophisticated and gorgeous. I had never seen anything quite like it. He opened the vanity drawer and pulled out a small container and a mirror. Taking the cocaine out of the container, he drew out two lines for me and handed me the straw. I was already feeling energetic, happy, invincible from the first hit. I took the straw and snorted the two lines of cocaine feeling the same pain in my head each time. He did the same. I stood, looking around the bathroom. He stood, looking at me.

"Maggie, why are you with House?"

I smiled, "Dr. Coldwater, it's really none of your business."

"Call me Noah. And you're right. I apologize." He pushed a strand of my hair that had come down behind my ear. "If you want more, this is my private stash. It's the good stuff. Just come up here anytime and take as much as you want."

"Thank you."

We talked for a few more minutes about Warhol and his impact on the New York scene. When we went downstairs, Noah Coldwater excused himself and went to talk to another couple that had just arrived. I looked for Greg, but didn't see him. Walking around, I occasionally talked to someone I knew. The search for Greg continued and I was getting annoyed. He wasn't in the library, living room or game room. I pushed through the doors leading to the kitchen. The staff looked up. I gave them a warm smile.

"I'm looking for my boyfriend. Tall, thin, blue eyes, brown wavy hair?"

They shrugged, except for one. She nodded towards another door. I went through it and saw that there was a pantry. I opened the door and caught my breath. Greg, was holding Rachel, his left hand was up her top on her breast, her leg was wrapped around his waist. They were sharing an open mouth kiss and didn't notice me at first. Greg moaned a little when I saw her hand move up and down inside the front of his pants.

I backed up out the door, banging against a broom. The woman quickly withdrew her hand and dropped her leg. Greg turned, hand still up her blouse, eyes meeting my eyes. I ran as I heard his voice, "Ah, shit! _Maggie!"_

I heard several more 'Maggies' before I ran up the stairs. I knew I could hide in Noah's bathroom. I ran through the Campbell Soup room, into his bedroom and then the bathroom. I sat on the marble side of the bathtub crying, wondering what I did that was wrong. What had driven him into the arms of the Rachel, the brunette with big earrings? Did I get bleach on his favorite shirt? Burn his toast? Steal the covers? Did I not kiss him right? Open my legs wide enough?

I was sobbing, tears cascading like Niagra Falls. I saw a shadow cross the floor as I sat there staring down. I looked up to see Noah standing, bent over looking at me with a kind, understanding smile.

"Maggie? Are you okay?"

I couldn't say anything or I'd start sobbing again. He sat down next to me and carefully put his arm around my back. He quietly pulled me into his shoulder where I started to cry again. After a few minutes passed, he lifted my chin up, took out a handkerchief, and wiped my tears. Then he leaned in and kissed me, softly, sensually.

"Noah?" I looked up kindly into his eyes, "I love Greg."

He smiled, "Greg is a lucky man. Are you crying because of him?"

A voice from the dark of the bedroom cut through, "Yes, she is."

I looked out into the bedroom, but couldn't see him. He finally stepped into the light. I held onto Noah tighter. I didn't want to deal with Greg. Noah stroked my head as I closed my eyes. Greg walked into the bathroom and leaned up against the sink.

Noah said nothing, I said nothing, Greg said nothing. It was a Mexican standoff. Noah kissed the top of my head, "I'll let you two talk." I felt him pull away, like he was going leave.

I shook my head, "No, please don't leave."

He chuckled and pulled my head up to look at my eyes. "Maggie, you said you loved him. If you love him, you need to talk to him about whatever has happened."

I looked up at Noah and then Greg. "He was about to fuck another woman in your pantry."

Noah winced and then looked accusingly at Greg.

"It's not true, I was going to let her give me a hand job. Maggie, come on. Let's go home."

I looked at him. He neither sounded contrite nor flippant. He just sounded ready to go home. Noah stood up and helped me to my feet. He walked me through his bedroom as Greg followed behind. At the top of the stairs, Noah hugged me again. "Maggie, you're young, you're beautiful, you're bright. You'll survive if you leave him."

Greg started down the stairs in front of us. He turned, "Fuck you Coldwater." His hand reached out to me, "Maggie?"

I started down the steps, but I didn't take his hand. I found my wool coat and stepped outside, turned and looked at Greg who had a hard time looking at me. We drove home and I climbed the stairs like a condemned woman.

"Maggie!" Greg called as I climbed up the stairs. "Maggie!"

I stopped, turned and looked at him, "Not tonight Greg. Just not tonight. I'm too tired."

Greg took the stairs two at a time, grabbing me as I walked down the hall towards the bedroom. He pushed me gently up to the wall. I refused to look in his eyes. "Maggie, I'm not going to lose you. I didn't screw her."

I smiled at the distinction. "No, you just felt her up and let her warm you up with her hand."

"It was a stupid move brought on by too much to drink and too much blow." He paused, "You kissed Noah."

"Right… "She looked into his eyes, "Noah kissed me. Unlike you, I told Noah that I loved you. I made it clear that I wasn't going to go any further, because _I love you_." I sighed and shook my head, staring straight into his eyes. "Greg, I love you, but right now I hate you more than I love you. I don't know how long that's going to last or if I'll ever get over it. But, I think you need to sleep in your own room."

"Maggie. I love you."

I started laughing, "Oh, that's rich. Almost a year together and you never said once that you love me. But, I catch you with your hand in the cookie jar and suddenly you blurt it out. Oh Greg, you are so transparent. That was low, even for you."

"I do love you. I screwed up tonight, but nothing happened."

I narrowed my eyes and chuckled, "Nothing happened? So, if I let a guy feel me up while I give him a hand job at the next party, then I'm in the clear?"

He let me go and looked down at his feet, "I meant, nothing emotional happened. I have no feelings for her. You shouldn't go to bed angry."

"I never go to bed angry, I stay up and plan my revenge. By the way, who is 'her'?"

He glanced quickly at me to see if I was really interested. Grimacing he said, "Rachel. It was Rachel. "

I knew who it was, but I wanted him to say it out loud. If it had been some random hook-up it would have been easier to forgive. But he obviously had an attraction to this woman. I said nothing; walking down the hall to the bathroom, I got ready for bed. I was so tired that by the time I went to bed, I didn't even have the energy for tears. All I knew was that I had a huge headache from crashing, a fickle boyfriend and a very stressful life.

Wisely, Greg didn't try to come into the bedroom. He waited and in the morning I came downstairs to find him cooking me breakfast. I made some tea and watched as he kept giving me furtive looks.

I was calm, "You know making breakfast doesn't get you a, 'Get out of Jail Free' card?"

He nodded and smiled sadly, "I know. But I figure maybe you'll be nicer on a full stomach."

"Don't get your hopes up."

I set the table and he served the eggs, scrapple and toast. We ate in silence. Greg was never one who could stay silent, so it was no surprise when he blurted out, "Maggie, what can I do to show you how much I want this to work?"

I chewed my toast. I was no fool. I knew I was too young and inexperienced to know what to say. What did I know about making relationships work, getting your boyfriend to behave, working through rough times?

**(HEY READERS…I WANT TO THANK THE KIND PEOPLE WHO HAVE LEFT COMMENTS. AS YOU KNOW, WE GET NO PAYMENT FOR WHAT WE WRITE. OUR ONLY PAYMENT IS YOUR FEEDBACK. THANKS.)**


	21. Chapter 11 Part I

**Chapter 11**

**Two Sides of the Coin**

House lay on his bed, his arms behind his head trying to put together the puzzle. He already knew that it was Christmas Eve when it started to go bad. He had handed her the gift and watched, before she even opened her eyes, a brief expression of disappointment crossed her face. It was quickly replaced by a genuine look of gratitude and delight when she saw the necklace, but House knew that something wasn't right.

All night at the Christmas Eve party he watched her. She was pleased with the necklace and earrings, basking in the envy of the women around her. She smiled frequently in his direction, yet he kept thinking about her brief moment of disappointment. What had she expected?

Clearly, it must have been something of emotional significance because Maggie wasn't one who really cared about material possessions. She liked nice things, but she neither asked for them nor expected them. So what was so emotional that she had expected it in a present?

He knew immediately that she had been hoping for an engagement ring. He chortled. _Does she really expect me to change my mind about marriage? _He looked at her across the room, vivacious and beautiful. _If anyone could change my mind, it would be Maggie. Why can't she just live with me for the rest of our lives? Rest of our lives…wow, I never thought of that before. I can't imagine not being with her the rest of my life._

House thought that Maggie had come to terms with not getting the ring. She made Christmas dinner. They laughed when House chased Maggie around the kitchen with the dead bird, flapping its wings at her. She seemed fine until Christmas dinner. He watched Maggie like a hawk as she listened to her brother extol the virtues of Theresa and marriage. Maggie's face went through so many changes. In the beginning she was amused, laughing with everyone over what Jack was saying. But when he talked about marriage and how he wanted to go through life with Theresa, Maggie had a faraway look, as if she was thinking about something more than just his words. It was then she started crying, before Jack had actually asked Theresa to marry him. She was crying for the wedding they would never have. He couldn't stand to see her in that kind of pain. He almost stood up and asked her to marry him at that moment. But he couldn't, he still felt the misery of his parent's marriage inside of him. The pain they both had experienced. House said nothing as he watched Maggie cry for an engagement ring that was never going to come.

It deteriorated after that. They never spoke about why she was so depressed. He didn't tell her that he knew why she cried sometimes when she didn't think he could hear. The spark went out of her, she worked, studied, cleaned and stretched herself to the breaking point just so she could avoid the pain of being with a man who wouldn't give her what she wanted. But then, when they made love, she clung to him as if he was going to be sucked out of the bed by a hurricane. It was hard trying to decipher her feelings.

House couldn't give her what she wanted, but he didn't know what would be a good substitute. Watching her sink into depression made House both angry and withdrawn. He didn't know what to do so he did what he does best, he pulled away and let her continue to spiral down.

Now he had really screwed up. At the party, he'd watched Maggie walk up the stairs behind Noah Coldwater like a lamb to the slaughter. He felt guilty offering up Maggie as the sacrifice for his career. He doubted that Coldwater would do anything that Maggie didn't want to do; Noah was at heart a decent guy. But, still, House knew that Coldwater was climbing those stairs with Maggie hoping that he would get lucky and Maggie was climbing them hoping to save his career.

House spotted Rachel, who motioned for him to join her. He walked over with his drink and Rachel grabbed his wrist, "I have something to tell you, but not here. Meet me in the kitchen in a few minutes." She took off towards the game room. House refreshed his drink, looked up the staircase and, after a few minutes, made his way to the kitchen. She wasn't there, but House didn't really care. The coke and the alcohol were pulling him in two different directions. He was a little lightheaded, starting to feel no pain.

Turning to leave, House jumped when Rachel burst through the door smiling and giggling. She looked around and pulled him into the pantry. He could see she was either high or drunk.

"I give up. What's the big news?"

She looked around, "I hear that you're going to be offered a position with Infectious Diseases and Coldwater is pissed."

House chuckled, "I don't want a position with Infectious Diseases. I want to start a Diagnostics Department."

She wrinkled her brow, "Greg, what are you talking about? Get your foot in the door and then work towards your goal."

"I'm 31 years old, I'll be almost 33 when this gig is up. I want to start doing what I want to do."

"I'd sure like to do it with you." She reached up and rubbed his smooth chin, then looked into his eyes, "I've missed you Greg. Have you missed me?"

He smiled. He could remember her perfume and the touch of her hand on his face. He knew they were dangerously close, too close. But the drugs and booze coursing through him pushed him forward. She didn't have to pull too hard, House's head came forward, mouth open. They kissed and then he pulled back.

He shook his head, "I shouldn't be here."

"Yes, but you are. You're no child Greg, you knew what would happen in here. And you must want it, because you're here." Rachel lifted her leg and hooked it around his waist, pulling him in.

House laughed, but he didn't pull back. He looked down at the tanned breasts peaking out of her low cut top. House reached out and slipped his hand up her top and found the large, pendulous breasts housed in the designer bra.

Rachel took her cue and found his zipper. He was hard and she was ready. She slipped her hand inside his fly and found what she had been missing. She was jerking him off when they both heard the noise.

Turning towards it, House saw Maggie's face and the look of horror. He called for her as he untangled himself from Rachel. He finally found her in the arms of Noah sitting on the edge of the bathtub. Knowing that they couldn't see him, he waited, waited and hoped she'd kiss him back, let him take liberties, do something to lessen his own treachery. But she didn't. Even when he kissed her, Maggie reminded Noah that she loved House.

Now he was in his own bedroom and for the first time in his adult life, he cried. Not much, but still a few tears trickled down his face. He had never loved anyone as much as he loved Maggie. But, as usual, he hated the fact that he couldn't make the people he cared about happy. He hadn't made his father happy, his mother happy and now he had failed to make Maggie happy. He always did something to screw it up.

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"Maggie, what can I do to show you how much I want this to work?" He watched her chew her food, eyes puffy and red from crying.

"Greg, I don't know. You've had more relationships than I have. Should I be concerned when my boyfriend ends up in a pantry with an old girlfriend giving him a hand job? Or abandons me to his boss as sexual fodder?"

House, looked away and winced, "Mags, I screwed up. I don't know how to make it up to you except to say that I won't do it again."

"Greg, I need time. Don't push me. I have to think this through." She looked up, the lids of her eyes slightly closed in sorrow, "To be fair to you, I'm not just upset about this. I have to think whether or not we have a future. Even if I forgive you and agree to take you back, I have to ask myself, where is this relationship going?"

"Maggie, does a relationship have to "go" somewhere? Can't we just enjoy being with each other for as long as possible?"

"Oh Greg, don't be coy. You know what I'm talking about and where it's coming from. It's the basic argument from day one. Can I just love you and not expect that we get married? No. Can you claim you don't want to get married and then someday decide to marry me? Doubtful. I love you and it eats at my heart to think of a day without you. But, I have to think about it, don't I? I can't keep putting my head in the sand. It just gets harder each day to let you go."

"Then don't let me go."

She looked at him and chuckled, "You don't know how much I want to keep you."

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The following Friday, Maggie's shift ended at 2:00 am and she found herself back at the house with a snoring House on the couch, the television on some infomercial. She kicked off her shoes and went over to wake him. Looking down, she thought he looked beautiful. His eyelashes fanned out on his cheeks, his arm was up at an angle. There was a half empty bottle of Taliskers on the coffee table. She gently nudged him.

"Greg...Greg it's time to go to bed."

He tried desperately to open his eyes, finally getting them both opened at the same time. He grinned, "Mags!"

Maggie was suspicious, "Greg? Are you drunk?" She bent down to smell his breath, "Yep, I think you're drunk."

House reached up and pulled her down onto his chest, "Maggie, I can't live without you. I've been drinking all night so that I could do this. Don't stop me." He laughed, "I'm on a roll. Okay, here goes…"

"Greg, why don't we go to bed and we talk about it in the morning. Anything that took you a bottle of Taliskers to say, needs to be said when you're sober."

He sat up, shifting Maggie so that she was in his arms. "Maggie, I love you. And if making you happy means we get married, then Maggie, I'll marry you. If you need marriage for me to prove how much I love you, then I'll marry you."

Maggie felt something between deep sadness and amusement. She was amused that House had spent the entire evening drinking, trying to scrounge up dutch courage to marry her. She would have laughed if it hadn't been for the fact that tomorrow when he was sober, he'd realize what he had done and panic. And then they'd be back to square one, in the same hole. She looked at him, he was grinning and pleased with himself.

"Come on, let's get you to bed." She stood up and pulled on his arm.

He yanked it out of her hand, "No! I'm not going anywhere until you say yes."

Maggie sighed, "Greg, I'll give you my answer tomorrow."

He stood up and walked with Maggie up the stairs, "Mags?"

She turned, "Hmmm?"

"I get to sleep with you, right? I mean, I've done what you want. I get to cuddle up to you tonight, right?"

She put her hand up on his cheek, "Sure, you can sleep in my bed." She knew he was too drunk to perform, so it didn't seem to matter if he slept with her or not. "But first we're going to get you ready for bed."

Maggie took him to the bathroom and brushed his teeth. He peed and then she took him to her bedroom. She sat him down on the bed and took off his shoes. The Levis came off along with the t-shirt. She grabbed some motrin and a drink of water, making him take the tablets and drink the entire glass.

"Okay bro, you can crawl in now."

"You're coming to bed, right?"

Maggie ruffled his hair, "Yeah. Let me brush my teeth and I'll be back."

Maggie brushed her teeth and put on a t-shirt. By the time she got back to the bedroom, Greg's eyes were closed. She crawled in bed and could feel the long legs on the back of hers. The hairy legs that she missed so much. He slipped his arm around her and hugged her, kissing the back of her head.

He whispered, "I should have told you I loved you the first day I saw you on the sidewalk flagging me down for a ride, because I can't remember a day since then that I haven't thought of you, wanted to be with you."

Maggie closed her eyes, wishing that he'd just go to sleep. "You go to sleep honey, it will all be okay in the morning."

"I love you Mags."

"I love you too, heart and soul."

The morning came and the sun seemed exceptionally bright in the bedroom. Maggie got up and closed the heavier drapes. She went to the bathroom and stood, looking at her reflection in the mirror. She stared at the circles and knew that if she didn't bring this to some kind of conclusion she was going to flunk out. She couldn't take much more drama in her life.

Quietly making her way down the stairs, she made a pot of coffee, then came back up with a cup for House. He was just beginning to stir. He tentatively sat up, hand on his head. Maggie chuckled and handed him some more Motrin and his coffee.

His voice was craggy, "Thanks."

"How do you feel?"

He shrugged, "Like Sonny Corleone at a toll booth."

"Well, get down a lot of water."

Maggie got up to leave, but she caught a glimpse of him in her mirror; he was looking around the bed as if he was trying to figure out how he ended up there.

"Maggie?"

"Greg?"

"Did we make love last night?"

She smiled, "Why do you ask?"

"Cause I don't see any condom wrappers."

Maggie couldn't resist, "Greg, don't you remember? I told you it was in the middle of my cycle, you said that was great, since we were going to get married, we might as well start making babies."

House stopped, his eyes grew wide, the blood drained from his face. He looked like he was frozen in space. He said very cautiously, almost contritely, "Maggie, I need to talk to you."

"About the wedding date? How many kids? I know you agreed to six last night, but I'm willing to accept the four you suggested in the beginning."

"Maggie, you know I love you. I want to make you happy, but…"

She held up a hand, "Greg, I'm yanking your chain. We didn't have sex, there was no discussion about children and I didn't accept your drunken proposal."

He looked visibly relieved, "Mags. I'm willing to think about marriage. I really am."

She bent over and kissed him, letting her lips linger for a few seconds on his, "I don't want you to "convince" yourself that marriage is okay, that you can be happy married. I want a man who doesn't have to be drunk so he can convince himself to marry me. Greg, we aren't going to make it. We need to stop fooling ourselves. I'd like you to find a new place at the end of your lease, hopefully sooner."

He closed his eyes and shook his head, "Mags, don't."

"Greg, don't make it any harder than it already is." Maggie stood up, and started to walk away. She stopped and turned, "Greg, can you come clean now? I know we've had philosophical debates about marriage, but there's something else, something deeper. What do you have against marriage?"

He could hardly control the anger, the pain, "Because marriage doesn't work. It trapped my mother in a marriage with my father. She wouldn't leave him when he started abusing me because they were married. Marriage was his legal control over her, over us. It was the same for him. He was trapped too; he fell in love with a female officer, but he didn't think he should or could get out of a loveless marriage, so he took it out on me and my Mom. Yeah, they're content with each other now, but there's no real love between them. Marriage isn't a testament of love Maggie, living with someone without the need for that paper, doing it because you love them, knowing that legally they can walk out the door at anytime, that takes true love."

Maggie nodded, "I think I understand now."

"Can I stay?"

She giggled, "No, but thank you for being honest with me."


	22. Chapter 11 Part II Two Sides of The Coin

**Chapter 11 Part II**

**Two Sides of the Coin**

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"He's talking to me, but barely. When he does, it's dripping with venom, sarcasm and usually derogatory." Maggie was stacking the dishwasher.

Theresa drank her diet coke, "Well, so much for being in love with you. Good that you found out he was lying."

Maggie shook her head as she scrapped the bottom of a pan, "No, he loves me. But when Greg is hurt, he gets mean, angry. He doesn't get sad. Sad makes Greg feel out of control. Sad was what he felt when his Dad was abusing him. No, he loves me and being mean to me is his way of proving it."

She laughed, "Wow, you really know him. Are you sure you're only 22?"

Maggie held up the scrub brush, "Almost 23, just four more months. I know him because he's not as devious as he'd like everyone to believe. Once you live with him you begin to understand the way that crazy brain of his works."

"So when does he move out?"

"Three weeks."

"Crap, three weeks of abuse?"

"Oh, yeah. It's my idea of limbo."

Theresa snorted, "I'm glad it's you and not me."

House's voice boomed, "Why Theresa? What's so horrible that you you're glad our Lady of the Perpetual Pain in the Ass is the sufferee and not you?" He stopped and gave Theresa a harsh look, "Oh, wait…maybe it could be because she's got the ass of a 747 and you don't? Or her cooking requires a blowtorch to get it off the pans when she's done? Or, could it be that it's because she has to live with me for the next three weeks?"

Theresa turned to him, "It would be the later, Greg. She tells me that you spell 'I love you', f.u.c.k.y.o.u."

"No Theresa, I know how to spell 'I love you,' but Sister Maggot wants her pound of flesh."

Theresa looked at Maggie who was wiping her wet hands on a dish towel. "Mags, I'm going to go. Are you going to be alright?"

"He's all talk. I'll be okay."

"Okay, see you on Friday. Bye Greg." Theresa glared jokingly at him.

House nodded.

Maggie tried to ignore House, but he made himself the 800 lb gorilla every time he was around her. She continued to clean up around him, occasionally their eyes would meet.

"So when will I get my money?"

"Money?"

"I have to pay 50 dollars a month more for the new place and I have 4 months left on this lease. You're breaking the lease, so I should, by law, get 200 dollars plus moving expenses."

She frowned, "You don't get moving expenses, you'd have to pay for those at the end of your lease."

"Where's my 200 dollars?"

"I'm kind of short. Uh, my new roommate moves into Mike's old room next week, she owes me 450 dollars. Can I give it to you then?"

He paused and acted as if he was doing her a big favor, "Fine. I can wait. What about the phone bill?"

"Did you call anyone long distance?"

"My mom."

"That it?"

"Yeah."

"Then don't worry about it, I'll pay it for you."

He shook his head slowly, "You really want me out of here if you're willing to pay me to go away."

She looked down, her lips pursed, "I just want it over." Looking up at him she teared up, her voice locking up, "It's hard. I feel like I'm cutting a chunk of my heart out. And you don't make it easy. You berate me twenty-four hours a day. I know you're doing it because you're hurting too. That just makes me feel guilty. Don't you want it over?"

He exhaled sharply, "Unlike you, I didn't want it over. And don't kid yourself; I berate you because you _are_ a moron, not because I'm hurting. I'm not hurting. I'm over that. I've got people who helped me over that blip in the road."

She knew he was referring to women. Since the bathroom incident at the Resident's Christmas party, House had become the hospital gossip. His prowess took on legendary proportions which, even at his best, he could never live up to. But, it meant that now he was single, he would be popular. For some reason, no one seemed to remember that Maggie was on the other end of the action. Her name had not gone down in infamy with House's. Maggie was grateful for that.

On the day that he was going to move out, it rained. In order to bring her grades up, Maggie had quit work and taken out a student loan to support herself. The third year of medical school started immediately after the end of the second year on May 2nd and it involved blocks of clerkships in each department at the hospital where students learned to become doctors. Maggie knew she wouldn't be able to handle clerkships and a night job, so she told her brother to find someone else. Maggie promised to help out on the big days, like St. Patrick's Day, which helped Jack accept the transition.

Jack had just purchased a large contracting company and was starting to make lots of money building track homes. He only kept Cavanaugh's because it was the family's business and legacy--the glue that helped hold Fishtown and Richmond together. Jack had offered to trade Maggie's house for one of his larger, newer homes, but she refused, telling Jack that she was happy where she was.

Maggie came home to find Greg and two other guys drinking beers and loading a rental truck at a leisurely pace. The rain was coming down hard and fast, making it hard to load the electronic gear.

"Greg, do you want to give me your forwarding address and phone number?"

He took a drink, staring at her over the bottle. "Why? I've put in a change of address form with the post office."

Maggie was hurt, not because he wouldn't give it to her, but because he wanted to hurt her by not giving it to her. "Fine. I just thought that if anything came up…"

"You know where I work."

She nodded, "Fair enough. Do you need any help loading?"

"Nope. Not from you."

An hour later the last box was being loaded. The two guys piled into the cab as House started for the driver's side. Maggie watched from the window as he stopped, remembered something and turned to run back inside.

He threw open the door and saw Maggie standing by the window, tears and snot running down her face like a little child. Through the sobs and sniffles she turned to him.

"Greg?"

He said nothing to her, but held something out in his fingers. She put her palm out to take it. He put the key in the middle of her palm, closed her fist around it, took one long look and bounded through the door.


	23. Chapter 12 Part I Resurrection

**Maggie's Story**

**Chapter 12**

**Resurrection**

I had contacted Dr. Feldman and he insisted I do my first clerkship in Infectious Diseases with him as my supervisor. After the block was over, he approached me and insisted that I allow him to approach the CDC about me doing some work with them. The CDC and Temple Medical School agreed that I could do two of my clerkship blocks in Atlanta for a total of sixteen weeks. The only problem was that I had to pay for my transportation to Atlanta and for my lodgings. I received 5,000 a semester in loans and that wasn't going to start until September. I needed money quickly.

Jack was busy bartending so I spoke fast, "It's a big deal, they only give these internships to two med students a year. If I do this, then there's a likelihood that I can do my residency with them after my internship. But I figure I need 3,500 dollars to get there and find something to rent. My loan should kick in after that. My rent should bring in about a 1,000 dollars of it, but I need 2,500 dollars."

Jack shook his head slowly and held out his palms, "I'm broke right now Mags. Between the wedding and the money I had to put up to get the loan on the new development, I'm skint. Next year I should be rolling in it, but as it is, I had to get Theresa to loan me some just last week for a new transmission."

I tried not to show my disappointment. Jack was the best brother a girl could have. I would come out of med school with maybe, 30,000 dollars in debt, a feat virtually unheard of for a doctor. He had always helped me. I only felt guilty that my tuition was draining him just when he needed money the most.

"Jack, I'm sorry. I didn't know. I'll try to get another scholarship next year. Hopefully, I can cut down on what you pay for my tuition."

He smiled and patted my hand. We were sitting at one of the round tables at Cavanaugh's and I could smell the familiar bar smells of beer and peanuts. It was a comforting smell despite what had happened the year before. Most of my memories of Cavanaugh's were good and I hung on to them. I try to be an optimistic person, a survivor, so I had made it a point to not avoid the bar because of the rape. It had worked, I no longer thought of the rape when I entered the bar unless someone brought it up or a something triggered a memory.

"Mags, that would be great."

I realized I needed money and I needed it quickly. I had to let the CDC know if I was coming by May 2nd, just two days away.

Theresa joined us, "Hey, Mags. Have you seen Greg since he moved out?"

Jack smirked. He knew I wouldn't have kicked Greg out unless he had done something bad, like cheat or beat me up. Since I had no bruises he had already guessed that Greg had cheated.

"Not really. I saw him in the distance at the hospital, but not close enough to say hi."

"Hmmm. Do you think he'd be willing to play piano for us at the Rehearsal Dinner?"

Jack snapped back, "Jesus Christ, Theresa, Maggie kicked him out and you want her to have to sit in the same room with him all evening?"

Theresa looked apologetic, "I just thought…"

I laughed, "He's angrier with me than I am with him. If you want him to play Theresa, call him at the hospital. I won't hold it against you, he plays well."

The truth was that I had seen him once in line at the coffee cart outside the hospital. I was standing in line digging in my purse for some money when I looked up and saw two blue eyes turned around staring at me. I gasped and took off, knocking people around to get out of ther, not bothering to get coffee.

I left Jack at the bar and went home, looking around, trying to figure out what I had that I could sell or pawn. The electronics would net very little so I went upstairs to my bedroom, looked around and realized that I had little of value to my name, except for one thing. I climbed under the bathroom sink and found the tampax box that I had hidden it in. I pulled out the silver metallic box and opened it up as I sat on my bed. The rubies and diamonds glittered. I fingered them and remembered Christmas Eve, the only time I ever wore them. A smile crossed my mouth when I thought of how I felt like a queen in them that night. Greg seemed pleased too, watching me and smiling. I snapped the box closed, grabbed my keys and took off.

John O'Riley's Jewelers was the jewelry store was imprinted on the top of the jewelry box. It was an independent store in an office-like building near the University. It had a small store window, but to enter you had to be let in by buzzer. John saw people on appointment usually, but with the Malones he made an exception. Doors opened when we knocked.

John was a man with fine blonde hair, fashionable wire glasses and a kind smile, "Maggie! How are you?"

"Fine, John. I'm doing very well, I'm in my third year at Temple Med."

"Your brother told me that when he came in to buy the engagement ring. What can I do for you?"

I put the jewelry box on the counter and opened it, "I need to get a refund for these."

He tilted his head, unsure of what to say. "This is the set your boyfriend bought you for Christmas, right?"

I nodded.

"Didn't you like them Maggie?"

"We broke up. I need the money to go to Atlanta for an internship. It's a long story."

I could tell that it didn't make sense to him. My brother was known to be doing well and he was known to have a soft spot for me. But John was polite and didn't ask. "Well, Maggie, I sold them to your boyfriend at an extreme discount. I can't give you that amount back, they're no longer new."

"I know what he paid. If you give me 2,600 dollars, I think that would be fair."

I could tell from his expression that it was just slightly more than what he had in mind. But he was a smart man and knew that Maggie Malone wasn't someone he wanted to dicker with. One word from me and his trade would dry up in half. He nodded, leaving to go to the back and write out a check. The necklace set was left open, facing me. I looked at the necklace and earrings for the last time before shutting them. I had to fight the urge to grab them and run, holding them close to me forever. But, I had to think of the future and something told me this internship was an important step in my life and if Greg couldn't give me the marriage I needed, maybe he wouldn't mind giving me this.

John came back and handed me the check. I avoided looking at the box and practically ran out of the store. I had the money and was on my way to Atlanta.

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Atlanta was exciting for me, especially since I'd never lived outside Philadelphia. But, I arrived during a heat wave and it didn't seem to let up for over a month. It was incredibly hot and humid. I thought Philly was hot, but Atlanta cooked my chops.

Father Laughlin had found me a room to rent with a Catholic family near the Cathedral of Christ the King in Atlanta. They were very nice people, Judith and Gerald LaCroix and their two kids, Ricky and Penelope. I had my own room with a twin bed. I gave them 400 dollars a month, which included my utilities, laundry and food, unless I wanted something special to eat. I was scheduled to stay for four months, so I figured I could handle living with a family.

The kids were noisy, but then, they were kids. Ricky was a baseball nut who spent as much time as possible out practicing with his Dad or his team. Penelope was a Tomboy, 6 years old and climbing trees every time I turned around. I watched them on occasion and found myself worn out when their parents got home. But, they were good kids and frequently went to Mass with me.

The house was two stories. I slept downstairs in the bedroom in the back near a bathroom. It was maybe 10 x 10 and next to the kitchen. I came and went through the back door of the kitchen. The house was larger than mine, although I liked my layout better. I had the feeling that they didn't normally rent rooms out, but had been convinced by Father Laughlin to do it for him. They apparently knew him when he and they were all young.

I had expected one large building when I went to check in at the CDC and was surprised that it was spread out like a small University campus. In the lobby of the administrative building were plans for an even larger building and campus to be built. I was impressed with how massive it was.

I obviously didn't know what I was doing and, when you're used to being in control, this "unknown" makes you very nervous. I was shown into an innocuous conference room and filled out the forms they handed me. I waited like a schoolgirl until they came and retrieved me. I was taken to a second building where a man in a lab coat approached me with a big smile.

"Ms. Malone? I'm Dr. Evans, I'll be your supervisor for your time here."

"Glad to meet you."

"Did you get the documentation?"

I nervously nodded my head, "Yes, sir."

"IMHOTEP is an eleven-week internship designed for graduates in med school to increase their knowledge and skills in biostatistics, epidemiology and occupational safety and health. The program begins with two weeks of intense training that will provide you with information and coursework necessary for your research experience. For the remaining nine weeks of the program, you'll conduct research and data analysis with experts here."

I gulped, I hate statistics. I got an A in the class, but I had to really work to get it. Still, I was hoping I would shine in the other areas of coursework. We started with a tour of the facility. It was quite a revelation to see the numerous departments and the amount of people who worked at the campus. Like thousands of visitors before me, my favorite building was the Emerging Infectious Diseases Laboratory with its mysterious floors. As you climbed higher, the danger of the diseases being handled increased. On the top floor, the Biosafety Level-4 Lab, they handled diseases like, Ebola, Lhassa, Marburg, Anthrax and Hantaviruses.

I couldn't get near any of the labs on the top floor because I didn't have clearance, but it peaked my interest. For the next eleven weeks I asked every conceivable question about the lab and how to climb my way up the ladder at the CDC to end up working in connection with the lab. No one seemed to know the one true path to the top floor, but I knew that I would find it. After eleven weeks, I knew I had found my calling. Epidemiology and Public Health fascinated me.

News from home was constant and almost overwhelming. I received letters almost on a daily basis. The phone calls on Sundays came in so often that I began answering the phone for the LaCroix's. Theresa and Jack called every week. His loan had gone through and they were in the next phase of the development. He asked me if I needed money, but I was fine. I had enough to last me the rest of my time in Atlanta. Jack bought me a plane ticket to come home for the wedding which was to take place three weeks after I left Philadelphia.

Their wedding was huge and required renting a ballroom downtown. The FBI camped out in the lobby and took photos. I was wearing my bridesmaid dress and went out to the lobby, struck a sexy pose for them and smiled. The agent had a good laugh and snapped the photo. I went over to him, "Maggie Magdalena Malone, 22 almost 23 and single."

He gave me a very broad grin, "Damn, I'm married."

We both laughed and I went back to the ballroom. Theresa had decided not to hire Greg to play for the rehearsal and so I relaxed and just enjoyed the events. At the rehearsal, Theresa gave me a beautiful gold Catholic cross. The Mass at the church was almost comical because a breeze kept blowing out the candles. I had to run up through the altar and close a door in the back. I came back, bowed to clapping and took my place as a bridesmaid. All in all, it was a great wedding and I was very happy when I flew back to Atlanta on Sunday.

I made lots of friends from around the country at the CDC,which sometimes felt like the United Nations. It was interesting to be out of Fishtown and have to work with so many nationalities and people from all over the states. I became very close to an Indian intern, Kamala Balasam. In our off hours we spent a lot of time touring Atlanta and generally staying out of trouble. We enjoyed our time off and at the end of eleven weeks I had a hard time saying goodbye to Kamala, my friends at the CDC, the LaCroixs and my new parish. On my last day I went to pray at the Cathedral and lit a candle for Greg. I prayed very hard that he was happy and that he would find someone who would love him as much as I did.


	24. Chapter 12 Part II Resurrection

Maggie's Story

Chapter 12 Part II

Resurrection

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I returned to Philly, unpacked and fell asleep on the couch after talking to my new roommates (both female) for a few minutes. A knock on the door revealed both Jack and Tom. I was pleased to see them. Tom and I had enjoyed ourselves s at the wedding, dancing and getting up to date. He was now stationed in Philadelphia at the base next to the shipyards. He had six months left and then he'd be out of the Navy. We talked for a good hour and then Jack got up to leave.

Hugging me, Jack whispered, "I'll let you and Tom have some 'alone' time." He pulled back and smiled at me, wiggling his eyebrows. "Okay, well come over for dinner tomorrow and see Theresa."

"I'll be there."

He left and I turned back to Tom, "He's too happy and too insistent that I come to dinner, is Theresa pregnant?"

Tom's mouth dropped, "Damn Maggie, can't anyone get something past you? You're good. Yeah, she's pregnant put please don't let on that you know."

I was delighted, but had to agree, "Oh no, I'll let them surprise me with the news."

"Mags. I wanted to come over to talk to you. Maggie, I went nuts last year. I saw a pretty face and didn't stop to think what I was giving up. There is no one in this world Maggie like you. It took me going to California and dating to discover that. I'm sorry that I screwed up so badly. I've regretted it for so long. I'd be grateful if you could give me another chance. Please…Maggie, give me a second chance."

I knew it was coming. I knew it at the wedding. He had been treating me with kid gloves and talking about his future as if I might be a part of it. Had it not been for my time in Atlanta, I might have stayed angry, told him to get lost. But, my time in Atlanta with the LaCroixs made me realize just how much I wanted a family, wanted kids. After eleven weeks with two rambunctious kids, I decided that four might be too many and was willing to settle for two or three.

I had always loved Tom, not like I loved Greg; I doubt I'll ever love someone like I love Greg. But, Tom was like an old shoe, we got along well, shared a lot of the same values, and were both Catholic. Being from Fishtown, Tom fit in with my friends and family. More importantly, Tom was a smart guy and somewhat ambitious. When he couldn't afford law school, he found a way to attend by joining the Navy. I admired his tenacity. And, to top it off, he was very good looking.

I looked at him and nodded, "I'd be willing to date. _But no promises._ I don't know where it may lead us, but I'm willing to try."

Tom was pleased and I have to admit, I was too. I needed to stop thinking about Greg and what might have been. It was time for me to move on.

Tom moved in with me six weeks later. Two months after that, we were engaged again. This time we picked a date, May 16, 1992. I was still attending my various clerkship blocks. Luckily, my nephrology block would take place in my fourth year, after Greg would be gone. I saw Greg on several occasions at the hospital. He never acknowledged me or attempted to make contact on his own. I heard from the grapevine that he was never lonely for company and that he was the eighth wonder of the medical world. One day I was in the cafeteria and heard a short burst of laughter. I knew it was Greg. I looked up and saw him, huge grin, sharing a joke with another doctor. I loved it when he laughed. His nose would crinkle, his top teeth would show and he'd scrunch his shoulders. It was as if his whole body was trying to prevent the laugh from escaping. He was still smiling when he caught me staring. I felt like I had been caught opening Christmas presents before Christmas. He stared for a few seconds, the smile dropping quickly from his lips. My chest felt tight, my whole body was aching for him. I took off. That was the closest I had been to him for months.

My wedding plans were going well. I wanted a much smaller event than Jack's since I didn't have money to pay for it. My brother offered to give me a huge wedding, but I just wanted to get married in the Church and have a small reception at Cavanaugh's. Of course, that idea lasted about two minutes. After compiling the list of the people who _had_ to attend, which consisted of most of Fishtown and Richond, I realized that Cavenaugh's wouldn't hold everyone. We rented a clubhouse at the local country club which Theresa promised to have decorated for me.

Tom had gone down to Washington D. C. for a JAG conference, leaving me to deal with the arrangements for the next few days. I had ridden my bike over for a fitting of my wedding gown and was feeling very hungry. It was only after being prodded, pushed and pinned into looking better than I should that I remembered I hadn't eaten all day. I got on my bike and started back towards Fishtown.

I saw a sandwich shop and decided that a hoagie might just be the answer. I went up to the counter and ordered, paid for my sandwich and turned to wait when I saw him. Staring at me, he was chuckling to himself and shaking his head. I think everything, blood, brains, emotions, drained out of me. I froze. Greg patted the stool next to him and nodded at it. I walked over.

"I won't bite."

I swallowed and shrugged my shoulders, "I'm sorry, I wouldn't have come in here if I had known you eat here."

He chuckled, "Maggie, you can eat anywhere you want. How are you? I heard you did a stint with the CDC."

"It was fantastic. Eleven weeks of chasing diseases on paper. It sounds boring, but it was fun."

"How's your brother?"

"Married and ready to have a kid in a couple of months. How are you?"

A voice called out, "G Man, Boyd, Carrie and Maggie."

We all made our way up to the counter to pick up our sandwiches. Greg turned to me, "My place is around the corner, how would you like to come over and eat? We could catch up."

I knew I shouldn't, but he seemed so friendly, very calm and nice. I nodded, "I guess I could eat my sandwich at your place. Got anything to drink?"

He thought for a second, "I have water, beer and Seven-Up."

"Okay." I grabbed my bike and we walked to his place. "So, you live close to Temple?"

"Obviously."

We walked into a house that had been split into two apartments. The large front parlor had been made into a studio with a bath. There was room for a sofa, chair, coffee table, a full size bed and kitchenette. There was a closet and four built in drawers under the closet. It was spacious for a studio apartment.

He walked over to the refrigerator, "Beer, milk, Seven-Up, Maker's Mark?"

"Seven-Up."

We sat down with our deli bags, him on the chair, me on the sofa. After setting up our sandwiches and potato chips on the coffee table inunioson, we each took a bite.

"So how's Nephrology?"

"Over in six weeks. I take my certification exam and then I'm done."

"Wow, it seems to have gone fast, huh.?"

He shook his head, "Not on my planet."

I chuckled, "What are you going to do next?"

"Set up a Diagnostics Department at Mass General."

"Really? Wow, that's cool." I was happy for him. He'd be working at the hospital connected to Harvard, a really exciting development for him. I worried for him though. They were very snooty at Mass General and Greg would easily get on their nerves. I was also sad, it meant I'd no longer see him on the hospital campus. It really would be over for good.

"What about you?" He nodded at my finger, "I see the old engagement ring is back."

"Yes, I'm engaged to Tom."

"Do you have a date this time?"

"March 16th."

He looked genuinely surprised and upset. "That's fast."

I giggled, "Not from this planet."

We continued to eat and I told him all the news about the people in Fishtown. We laughed quite a bit and it felt like all those nights we spent together going over the events of the day. I remembered that we used to laugh a lot together, a lot. Despite the fact that I had tried to drag it out, I was done with my food and drink in twenty minutes. I got up and threw the wrap and bag in the trash. I turned to leave, only to find he was standing in the middle of the living room, smiling so sweetly.

"I miss this, Mags."

My heart splintered, "Me too. Greg, I pray every day that you'll be happy."

"I'm happy here, with you, right now."

I looked away from him, "You know what I mean."

He walked up to me and put his hand on my cheek, "You know you don't love him."

"You're wrong, I do love him."

His arm reached around my body. As he leaned down, I started shaking. My body reacted to the confusion I was feeling. I wanted him and yet I knew this was wrong, terribly wrong. He put a hand up my t-shirt, snapped my bra loose, then slipped his hand around to cup my breast.

"Oh, crap Greg. You know we can't do this."

He continued to touch my breast and twist my nipple gently in his fingers. He picked me up and took me over to the bed where he lay me down and covered my mouth with his. The smell was so familiar, comforting, erotic, enticing. It was that woodsy musk of his mixed with the smell of his Polo After Shave. We kissed for several minutes, our mouths opened, tongues searching wildly, while his hand found the button on my levis and unzipped them quickly.

Greg sat up, reached down and pulled my shoes off. Standing up, he grabbed my Levis and pulled them off. I should have jumped up and run, but I felt congested between my legs, a congestion that was all hot and building. All I could think of was him inside of me and the feeling of his chest on mine as we made love. I knew I was screwing up my life, but my 23 year old heart only wanted one thing and that was the touch of the man I loved most in the world. He took off his top, revealing the curly brown hair on his chest and the start of the little trail of hair from his belly to his genitals.

"Take your top off," he demanded.

I sat up, taking my top off while he took off his pants. I lay back, semi-nude on the bed, watching him undress. My breasts ached for him to touch them again, feeling a sensual relief when his wide mouth came down over my breast, licking and sucking it harder and harder. I pulled his boxers down, revealing his pink and glistening erection. I slipped from him and crawled to the middle of the bed, still in my panties. He crawled onto the bed and together we were facing each other, both kneeling. I bent down and put my mouth over the head of his member, sucking and licking as he threw his head back and closed his eyes.

"God Maggie, yeah, yeah. Oh, yeah."

I sucked and licked and then took my hand and started pumping faster and faster until he pulled me off, pushed me back, staring into my eyes as his fingers found the seam of my panties. He ripped them off without saying a word.

"Fuck me, Greg."

In haste, he grabbed my left leg and put it over his shoulder, stabbing me hard and fast with his erection. I could feel his body slamming into mine with a sensual force and the sound of our skin slapping against each other faster and faster. It was so hot that I started coming, my contractions pulling him inside, squeezing the semen out of him. He raised up and cried out as if he was in pain, then thrust three more times before falling onto my chest.

We were sweaty and exhausted, but he didn't roll over. He kissed me from my stomach up to my lips, hanging over my lips for what seemed to be a long time. We gazed into each other's eyes, as if we could heal each other with a look, but all I felt was longing and pain. I longed to have this again, this feeling of being with a man who both satisfied and challenged me, who could make me laugh, make me come, make me happy – most of the time.

"Maggie, you're so beautiful."

"Thank you." I looked around. After a minute or two, I said, "I better go."

He wouldn't get off of me, "Maggie, please stay, for me, please stay tonight."

"I shouldn't."

He smiled with the knowledge that I wanted to stay, "Maybe, but just stay tonight. You've already committed your Mortal Sin, might as well stay and enjoy yourself."

I shook my head and closed my eyes, "You just can't let the Catholic contempt go, can you?"

"I just know that I'm leaving Philadelphia and you're getting married. When you walk out that door we probably won't see each other again. I'd like to hold you as long as I can before you go."

I had to agree with his logic. We had already breached my fiance's trust and it was unlikely I'd see Greg again. I wanted to hold him for as long as I could, before I was forced by the direction of my life to let him go forever.

I got up and went to the top of the bed and pulled the covers down. He smiled and joined me. We held each other, stroking and kissing. We said very little, our hands and mouths saying what we needed to know. I had never felt so desirable or wanted in my life. When he rolled me on my back and slipped between my legs the second time we both wanted it to be slow. After feeling between my legs, Greg guided himself inside. We didn't move. He kissed each of my breasts, sucking them, alternating between them like favorite children. He bucked up once, taking me by surprise. I clamped down around him and he smiled. His breath started to speed up.

"You feel so good, so hot." He said without missing a beat.

"You do too. It's feels natural." I moved slightly to accommodate him as he continued the slow, sensual screw.

"We do this so well together."

I felt him slip deeper inside, "I know, I can't help but think you've been practicing."

"You too." He bucked up as if to drive home the point.

"Greg, you smell so good."

"Maggie, I've always loved your smell. The smell of your sex makes me want to hump you every time."

I was wetter, allowing him to slip in and out with ease.

"Yeah, that feels really good."

"Tell me about it. You're still so tight." He propped himself up and looked down at the sight of his dick slipping deep inside me. "Oh baby, this isn't going to last much longer. Get on top."

He rolled and I followed, ending up with him still inside as I straddled him. His hands reached up and played with my shoulders and then, dragging his fingers across my breasts, he reached down and played with my clit.

"Does that feel good?"

I smiled, "Too good." Slipping my hand down, I fondled his balls, then fell forward and rubbed my breasts against his chest. He pulled my chin up and gave me open mouth kiss. The whole time he was pushing up into me like a slow piston.

He started to buck up in a rhythm that got faster and faster. Chuckling, he said, "The faster I go, the more your breasts bounce up. It's very endearing."

"Would you shut up and just screw me?"

"Ewww, testy aren't we? Well that does it." He pushed me off and pulled out.

"Greg, what are you doing?"

He got up, grabbed a winter scarf and tied my hands over my head and then the other end to his bedpost. "I'm making sure that you do what I want you to do. Besides, you didn't think I'd really let you go?"

I started flailing my legs. He held him them down, grinning at me.

"Oh baby, that's hot." He grabbed my legs, pulled them apart and pushed his tongue up to my slit. I inhaled as he found his mark. He licked and licked, holding my thighs down as he did. I tried to push up to take advantage of his touch, but he backed off.

"Greg, don't tease like that."

"You mean like this?" He went back to sucking my clit, sticking his finger inside. I pushed up and he pulled back again.

"No, Greg. Touch me, touch me."

"I love it when you beg." He smiled and went back to licking up and down. I wanted to grab his head to keep him from pulling back, but the scarf was tied tightly and I couldn't. "Okay baby, now I'm going to take you home."

He sucked my clit and then switched to licking, his finger pushing in and out, in and out. I didn't dare buck or he'd pull away. I felt the pressure start at the tip of my clit where his warm, wet tongue connected with me. I started to whimper and he started to press harder, lick faster. I felt the tingle and knew I was coming. I prayed he wouldn't stop, I didn't want to lose the orgasm.

He kept fingering me as he lifted up, "Your thighs are tightening, your clit is huge, your sopping wet-- you're ready, aren't you?"

My voice was hoarse, "Yes, please, don't stop this time."

"Okay baby, are you ready?"

I nodded.

He climbed on top of me and used his wet penis to rub against my clit over and over. Hard and fast he continued to encircle and rub my clit with the glistening head. I started screaming, it felt like a tidal wave coming from his penis through my clit, into my womb and up to my nipples. I wanted to hold his head, hold him, but couldn't. He pushed inside of me and came almost immediately as my orgasm clamped over and over around his shaft. He started yelling too, the bed hitting against the wall with the force of his thrusts. The bed was banging the wall and the sound coming from us was deafening.

After we both stopped screaming, he collapsed on top of me. Trying to catch our breath, I motioned for him to untie me. Reaching up, he was about to undo the scarf and then paused playfully, as if he had second thoughts. He finally undid the scarf. I immediately grabbed him and squeezed him, wanting to hold onto that moment. He must have known because he held me just as tight. We fell asleep like that. When I woke up it was 3 am. I looked over at him, the light of the alarm clock and street light through the window shining enough light on him to make him look angelic. I wanted to hold him again, but I didn't dare. I needed to leave him or I'd end up staying. Pulling away, I slipped out of the bed and found a piece of paper. I sat down and, taking out my little flashlight on my key ring, wrote him a note.

I put the note on the table, took one more look at him. I was so tempted to crawl back in bed, but knew it would be a mistake that we couldn't afford. The same issues that pushed us apart were still very much alive. If I crawled back in that bed, it wouldn't end well.

I started crying before I even stepped out the door with my bike. As I heard the lock latch behind me, I felt my heart sinking and our relationship slipping away into the past. I got on my bike and pedaled to Fishtown, my eyes so clouded, I found my way by autopilot.

I walked up the steps of my house, closed the door and parked my bike inside. The phone answering machine was blinking. I figured it must be Tom so I decided not to listen to it, not yet, I wanted to keep my night with Greg in my head, in my heart, for as long as possible.


	25. Chapter 13 Afterlife

**Maggie's Story**

**Chapter 13**

**Afterlife**

House woke up and knew without opening his eyes that she was gone. He refused to confirm it right away, trying to imagine that she was still in his bed, waiting for him to wake up so that they could make eggs and bacon and then screw on the couch. He stayed fixed to the bed, eyes closed, until he could no longer ignore the fact that she was gone. He swallowed hard and opened his eyes, looking over at where she had been. Touching the bed, smelling the pillow, he wanted so much for her to be in the bathroom, but when he got up, she wasn't there. He saw the note, but chose to ignore it for most of the morning, still imagining that Maggie was somewhere in the studio, hiding.

Around two in the afternoon, House finally sat down on the couch with a glass of Taliskers and picked up the note.

_Greg,_

_I had to leave because I'm sure that when you woke up you would have asked me to stay. I can hear you telling me that I don't love Tom, that I love you and should be with you. You'd be half right, I do love you. I love you so much it feels like I'm being gutted every time I leave you. But honey, you know that if I did stay, it would end the same way. I'd be doing the Catholic rag and you'd be doing the evasion hop. We both need to accept that our love will just have to be something we look back at fondly. I'm going to keep you in my prayers for the rest of my life. I'll ask God every day to send you someone who will love you on your terms._

_Bye honey. I hope you're blessed with everything you want out of life. _

_Love, Mags._

House could already tell her it wouldn't come true. What he wanted out of life was about to marry Tom O'Leary.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Maggie was back in the Sacristy finishing dressing. She was so sick to her stomach she was sure she'd vomit all over the form fitting strapless dress made of soft satin. The embroidery on the bodice was a deep silver and at the hips was a band of silk that met in the middle of her pelvic bone, draping down like Guinevere's gown in Camelot. Her strawberry blonde hair was pinned up on her head with tendrils coming down. Around her neck was her mother's pearl necklace. Maggie looked in the mirror.

"You're so beautiful!" Theresa smiled and shook her head.

"Thank you, Theresa."

Theresa gasped and looked behind Maggie causing Maggie to turn around. Maggie gasped too. Standing in front of her was a sweating Greg House dressed in a gray t-shirt and gray jersey sweat pants. He was breathing hard, as if he had just run a marathon. They stood staring at each other. Maggie was horrified, the hair on the back of her neck standing straight up.

"_Greg?"_

He was agitated, "Mags, you can't do this!"

She turned to Theresa, "Can you let me have a few minutes alone?"

Theresa shook her head sternly, "Maggie, that's not a good idea."

Maggie turned to Theresa, "You're probably right, but please?"

Theresa exhaled deeply as she left, "Greg, you really need to leave."

House barked, "Theresa, just mind your own business."

She left, her lips tightly shut and eyes narrowed.

"Greg, what are you doing here?"

He stared, up and down at her. He whispered, "My God Maggie, you're so incredibly beautiful."

She looked down at the dress, realizing she was getting married in a few minutes, "Greg, you shouldn't be here."

"Mags, you can't do this. I love you, you love me. You should be with me, come with me. _Come with me and be my love, and we will all the pleasures prove."_

Maggie wanted to go with him, wanted to grab his hand and run. She walked up to him, "Alright, Greg, marry me_." _He winced. She raised her voice,"_Marry me. If you are serious about loving me and being with me, then marry me. Go out there and tell everyone that you'll marry me."_

He pleaded, _"Mags! Please?"_

_"No, tell me right now! Yes or no?"_

He yelled back, _"Why?" _He grabbed her by the shoulders and took a deep breath, "Why do you need to be married right now? Can't we wait? Wait until after I get settled in my career?"

Maggie shook her head and said quietly, "Go. Leave. Get out of here."

"Maggie, let's just wait until you get out of med school, then we'll know for sure."

_"You fucking idiot, I'm pregnant!"_

He said nothing, his mouth hanging open. She clenched her teeth and pushed him backwards, towards the door. He grabbed her hands and stepped toward her.

He could hardly get it out, "_Mine?"_

Maggie grimaced and shook her head, "It doesn't matter, _get out and stay out_."

"Maggie?" House stood, his arms held out.

Maggie, looked away.

Closing his eyes, he knew, "Oh, shit."

Two sets of hands grabbed House by the arms and started to drag him away. Maggie, jumped forward, "Jack! Don't! Please, don't!"

Jack and his newest assistant, Kieran, were hustling House out the door.

Maggie screamed and it echoed all through the nave, "_Let him go. He's leaving on his own_!"

Jack could see how distressed this was making Maggie, "But Mags, he's an ass. Let me get rid of him before Tom sees him."

Maggie shook her head, "Leave him alone, Jack. It's over. You don't have to worry. _It's all over_. He's leaving."

Everyone stood still. House searched Maggie's eyes, but something in her had snapped. She had made her mind up; she wasn't going with him. He turned, looked at Jack with pain in his eyes, walking out without looking back.


	26. Part II, Chapter 14 Part I Leaving Earth

**XXXXXXXXXX PART II XXXXXXXXXX**

**Chapter 14**

**Leaving Earth**

"Maggie? Mags?"

She turned around, her mouth dropping open, eyes bugging out, "_Greg?"_ She grinned and ran up to hug him, "I don't believe it! _How are you?"_

He let her hug him, holding his Starbucks coffee out so he wouldn't spill it on her, and then he pulled back, "What are you doing in D.C.?"

"I could ask you the same thing, but I'm afraid it would have something to do with congressional interns." They both laughed. "I had to go up on the hill to testify."

He chuckled, "I'm shaking in my boots. Maggie Malone testifying before the House? Was anyone alive when you got done?"

"Nope. It was a bloodbath." She chuckled, "And you?"

"Infectious Disease Conference. I was on a panel." He looked at her. She had a briefcase in hand, dressed in a tailored suit, perfect eye makeup. She looked hot. "Where are you going?"

"Back to my hotel. Where are you staying?" Maggie asked.

"Fairmont."

"Really? I'm at the Westin. Were you headed back?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Want to get some dinner?" She asked.

He blinked and pulled back, grimacing.

She felt awkward, embarrassed. He obviously didn't want to have dinner with her. She slapped her forehead, "Oh, I'm sorry Greg, I forgot, I really need to read some data tonight. Well, it was good seeing…"

He reached out with his free hand, "Mags, it's not that. It's just that I didn't expect to see you." He looked around then finally back in her eyes, "I'm living with someone."

She laughed, "I understand. That's great, Greg. I'm really happy for you. Well, it was nice seeing you again. Take care. Bye!" She took off in the direction of the hotel.

The Fairmont was next door to the Westin. House didn't know what to do; it would look awkward if he walked back now, like he was following her. He sat down in the park and waited a few minutes. There was a playground with kids playing. He smiled.

_She must be close to five years old. I wonder if she's feisty like her Mom? _

House pulled out the little picture from his wallet. There wasn't much that you could deduce from the photo of the infant except a patch of red hair and pale skin. He turned her photo over, Bridget O'Leary, January 26, 1993, 6lb.7oz. 20 ½ inches.

He had never been sure who had sent it to him. It seemed logical that it would have been Maggie, but it wasn't Maggie's handwriting on the back of the photo. It was masculine writing. He thought it might be Michael's. House took a ragged breath. He had never tried to contact her and if she hadn't shown up today, he might have been able to put her completely out of his mind in a few years. But there she was. Maggie's hair was short and sassy. She had matured into a beautiful woman with gorgeous curves under her two piece houndstooth suit. When she walked away he looked longingly at the sculptured, thin legs that carried her off down the road. She hadn't looked back.

It was stupid to wait. He knew he wouldn't be able to stay away. He was too curious, too happy to see her. He wanted to be around her, hear her talk again. He got up and sprinted back to the Fairmont, took a shower and then walked over to the Westin. He looked in the bar and then the restaurant, but didn't see her at first.

"May I help you, sir?"

"I was looking for a woman, late twenties, pretty, short blondish-red hair, maybe 5'4"?"

"Oh, I believe she's in the back around those booths."

House nodded and started towards the area that she pointed. Turning down the aisle, he saw her sitting next to the window looking out. He walked up to the booth, "I lost my teddy bear, will you sleep with me?"

She started laughing, "I'm not sure about sleeping, but I'll buy you dinner, Dr. House."

He scooted into the booth across from her. The waitress hurried over and took his drink order, handing him a menu at the same time. For a few minutes they sat in silence. "I heard you work at the CDC now."

She nodded, "I'm in the Epidemiology Department. I just got my first team."

"Team?"

"I'm off to Kenya to study Rift Valley Fever Virus."

She said it with so much glee, like someone who just said they were going to Disneyland, that he started to laugh.

"Kenya? For how long?"

"Six months, maybe more."

He tilted his head, "Is Tom going to take care of Bridget while you're gone?"

Her face lost its color, her mouth dropped; she seemed to have trouble breathing. She pulled herself up and climbed out of the booth, stumbling as she did.

"Mags?" He jumped up and picked her up. "Are you okay?"

She shook her head, "I feel a little woozy. I think I'll go up to my room. Could you ask them to charge the drinks and your dinner to room 405?"

"Sure." He watched as she stumbled out the door of the restaurant.

A few minutes later he knocked on room 405.

She asked, "Who is it?"

"Maggie, it's Greg. I just want to make sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine Greg, just go away."

He said soberly, "Mags, let me in."

He heard the door unlock and open partially. He pushed it open and saw her going back into the bedroom. She sat down on top of the bed, her back up against the headboard, head down on her knees.

He sat at her feet, watching her cry. "Maggie, for God's sake, what did I say that caused this?"

She looked up, "She had your eyes. I guess I knew she would from the moment she was conceived; I knew her eyes would be breathtaking." Maggie reached over and grabbed her purse, pulled out her wallet and fumbled for the photo. She fingered it and smiled, "She was a beautiful, beautiful baby. My sweet little Bridget." She handed the photo to him.

He looked at the JC Penney portrait of the little girl in a frilly deep blue dress, big smile like her mother, freckles splattered across her nose, her red hair hanging down to her shoulders. In the photos, her eyes were a brilliant blue with dark brown eyelashes framing them. She was standing straight with a basket in her hand. She was a beautiful child.

"She's gorgeous. What, this was when she was two?"

"Almost two. Bright, bright, bright, such a bright child."

"Maggie, you must have a more recent photo, right?"

She looked at him and started gagging. He ran and grabbed a trash can. Maggie threw up. After a few minutes, she took the trash can into the bathroom rinsed it and brushed her teeth.

House waited until she settled back down on the bed, her head on the pillow, "Maggie? What happened to Bridget?"

Maggie put her arm over her eyes. She whispered, "Pneumonia."

House wasn't sure he heard right, "_Pneumonia?_"

"She died of pneumonia a few weeks after her second birthday."

House froze. He wasn't sure what he felt for his daughter, let alone his _dead_ daughter. "She died of pneumonia?" There was a long pause as Maggie gasped for air between tears. "How did she get it?"

It took Maggie a few minutes to compose herself. She lifted the arm from her eyes and turned over to tell him. House was sitting up on top of the bed, his back to the wall. "Tom and I were living in Atlanta while I did my residency at the CDC. He was working in a good firm and we had just bought a house. You know, it was a good, middle class, life. We gave Bridget a birthday party when she turned two. Jack, Theresa, Mary and Luke came down for it. Bridg was so cute, talking up a storm, playing with her friends and her cousins. We gave her a tricycle, which Tom and Jack spent the whole weekend trying to convince her to ride. Jack and Theresa gave her a Cabbage Patch doll, which she wouldn't let go of during her party. On Sunday, my brother and his family flew home. I got a call from Theresa on Monday to let me know that they had gotten home safe, but it had been a rough trip because Luke had started running a fever. Two days later Bridget started running one too. When I took her in, the doctor told me that it was the flu.

I stayed home with her for the next few days. But her cough kept getting worse and she didn't seem to be getting better. A day later they admitted her to Children's hospital. She had bacterial pneumonia, which seemed to respond at first, but then she got strep infection in the hospital on top of it and her tiny little body couldn't take it."

Maggie remembered and shuddered. "Tom kept looking to me, 'Can't you do anything? Isn't she going to get better? You're a doctor, do something. There has to be something you can do. For God's sake, she's just a baby. _Do something_.' But there was nothing I could do. Her little lungs gave out eight days later. I was holding her hand when the monitor flat lined. I picked her up and gave her artificial respiration for ten minutes. Tom, his mother, and Jack were stunned, standing quietly in the room while I tried to get her to breath. When the doctors pronounced her dead, the nurses all started crying. I was so numb, I didn't cry for days. Tom said I was a cold bitch." Maggie couldn't go any further. She started crying again.

House slipped down, put his head on the pillow and placed his hand on her cheek.

Her voice became even weaker, "We took her back to Philadelphia to bury her in Tom's family plot."

"Tom didn't know about me?"

"He thought Bridget was his." Maggie rubbed her eyes, "His entire family was devastated. Jack and Theresa blamed themselves for exposing her to the flu. It was painful for everyone."

House stroked Maggie's face, "Mags, I'm so sorry."

Maggie slipped her hand under the pillow and turned her red eyes to House, "How did you know her name?"

"Someone sent me a photo of her." He pulled out the photo and handed it to Maggie.

She chuckled, "Not the most flattering photo. She got a lot prettier after that." Maggie turned the photo over, and narrowed her eyes, "Oh my God, that's Jack's handwriting. He sent you this?"

"It came with no return address or letter, just the photo."

Maggie continued to stare at the photo, "She took almost twenty-four hours to be born. She was a good baby though. Always smiling and laughing." Handing the photo back she tried to smile.

House looked at her hands as she gave him back the photo, "Mags. Where's your rings?"

She shrugged her shoulders, "Tom divorced me."

"_Divorced_?" House was shocked that Maggie would agree to a divorce.

"We were devastated when Bridget died. I threw myself into work, rarely coming home."

House interrupted, "He fell in love with another woman?"

She chortled, "No, that would have been easier." She sighed, "Greg, can you get me a drink of water?"

He got up, opened the refrigerator and handed her a bottle.

"Oh, I don't need a bottle from the hotel frig. 4.00 for a bottle of water is exorbitant."

House rolled his eyes and shook his head, "I'll pay for it Maggie."

"I just meant that…" She gave up and opened the bottle, drinking half of it before putting it on the nightstand. She turned over and saw House reach out. She crawled up and put her head on his chest. He rubbed her hair.

"Okay, now tell me what happened?"

"We were having a hard time, neither of us said much, we just went to work and came home. I would go into the office and work, Tom would work on his laptop in the dining room. One evening I came home earlier than normal and found Tom in her bedroom sobbing. I held him and together we cried all night. It was cathartic. We talked about having another child and so we began making love again. Tom had stopped using birth control when we got married. We hadn't really been concerned that I hadn't conceived after Bridget was born, because our lovemaking was somewhat erratic, depending on my schedule. After six months of trying regularly, I went in to be checked and was given a clean bill of health. The fertility expert seemed to think I was fine, so Tom went in."

House snorted, "He's infertile."

She nodded. "No viable sperm whatsoever."

"He realized Bridget was my child."

Maggie was calmer, breathing easier, "He figured it out right away. He said I was a fraud, a liar, pawned someone else's kid off on him. 'You knew House wouldn't take care of her, so you decided I was easily duped. Let Tom take care of her, he's an easy mark.' After that, we fought every minute we were together. Within a month he told me he wanted a divorce. He had talked to our Parish priest and had been told that the Church would probably annul the marriage. Of course I begged him not to go through with it; I didn't think I could handle a divorce on top of Bridget's death. I went to a therapist. He told me that Tom was in so much pain over her death, that finding out she wasn't his blood was like a 'Get Out of Jail Free' card. He didn't have to care about her if she wasn't really his. The therapist thinks that the grief will hit him again, later, pretty hard."

She started to cry, "He moved back to Philadelphia and when the divorce came through, he called me in Atlanta. 'My family wants your daughter out of our family plot. You need to move her. I'm having her dug up next week."'

House pulled up to look at Maggie, "The son of a bitch raised her for two years and then dug her body up?"

"His Dad insisted that the 'bastard child' be moved. I was frantic. I flew up to Philadelphia and with Jack's help we found a plot in the same cemetery as my parents. It was on the other side of the park. But she was…" Maggie started sobbing, "…my little baby was all alone."

House felt so many emotions coming up. He was angry, surprised, but mostly he wanted to protect and care for Maggie. He held her until she fell asleep. An hour later she woke and pulled out of his arms to go to the bathroom. When she came out, House was watching her.

"Mags, Are you going to be okay?"

"I'll be fine. I have my work."

"What about the divorce?"

"It was final about six months ago. We split everything, except my house, which I got to keep. The Church annulled our marriage. So, in the eyes of the Church I've never been married. In the eyes of Tom's family, my daughter was a bastard."

"Who gives a flying fuck what they say about Bridget? It doesn't matter."

"No, it doesn't matter. I loved her."

Maggie crawled back on top of the bed into House's arms. She looked so sad, so in need of love and comfort. He thought of her down in Atlanta, alone and going through all of this, away from the people who loved her. She was only 29, still a young woman, but she had been through a lot.

Maggie couldn't hold back, she reached up and kissed House. The softness of her lips, the touch of her tongue, the smell of her skin, triggered so many memories. House pulled her up and stroked her. The suit had four buttons, all which eased open under House's fast fingers. The bra was unsnapped just as deftly. Pulling the jacket and bra off, he tossed them on the floor and began to fondle her breasts. They were different, just as beautiful, slightly bigger, the nipples larger, more pronounced, but still firm and round. Running his hand down her breastbone to her skirt, he reached around and unbuttoned it. Maggie pulled the skirt off along with her pantyhose while House took off his shirt and socks. The pants came down and Maggie smiled at the erection pushing to get out of his boxers.

House helped Maggie take off the butter yellow panties, relishing in the way her body revealed what was under them. The elastic slipped down, giving up the dark blond hair that grew in waves around her folds. The body next to him was familiar and yet unfamiliar. It had more flesh around the hips, more curves than before. It was the body of a fully developed woman and he had never been so excited in his life. He wanted her more than ever before.

"Maggie, open your legs."

She did as he told her. Opening her legs, he felt between, not surprised to find that she was wet and ready. He mounted her and, holding her as tight as he could, rammed up into her as hard as he could. Maggie moved her hips to let him penetrate deeper. He paused when he was as deep as he could get inside of her. Looking down into her eyes, he felt a connection, a connection with his past, his dreams, his hopes, all there in her eyes, her smile. He could feel her muscles contract, holding onto him as firmly as she could, tightening their bond. He slowly slid back and forth until the thrusts were fast and deep. It didn't take long before he was moaning into her ear with each ejaculation. When he pulled out, semen came out too. House reached down and began to finger her, dipping into the warm pool between her legs. He picked up speed, making Maggie come in his hand, screaming his name out over and over until she pushed his hand away. They lay naked in each other's arms, like old times.

House felt so torn. Maggie needed him, but he had been living comfortably with the new love of his life, Stacy. They were content and House didn't have to worry about marriage or children, Stacy had made it clear that she wanted neither from him at that point.

Out of the blue Maggie asked, "You said you were living with someone?"

"Yes, I'm living with a lawyer in Princeton. I'm head of the diagnostics department at Princeton- Plainsboro. We've been together for over a year."

"Does she love you?"

"She says she does."

"Do you love her?"

He paused, not wanting to hurt Maggie in her fragile state.

She smiled, sensing his concern, "Oh Greg, if you only knew how often I pray for you to find a woman to love. It's okay; I really want you to be happy."

"I love her, Maggie."

"Good. That makes me happy for you."

"But if you ever said you'd live with me again, I don't know what I'd do. I haven't looked at another woman since meeting Stacy and within hours of seeing you again, I'm cheating on her."

She shook her head and smiled kindly, reassuringly, "You just felt sorry for me."

"No Maggie, I wanted you from the minute I saw you this afternoon." He exhaled in defeat, "I love you."

"I'll always love you too, Greg. Heart and soul."

"Yeah, and it sucks. I love you and I love Stacy. I feel like I'm cheating on everyone."

She rubbed his face, "Greg, don't. The reality is that I'm going away. You don't really know me anymore. We've been apart for years. This was an aberration, something you did because you felt sympathy. Obviously, Stacy is the real thing. She knows who you are now and she's chosen to be with you. That says a lot. She must be a keeper…she puts up with you." She tweaked his nose, "Has she said anything about marriage or kids?"

He shook his head. "She's four years older than me and doesn't want kids. She's neutral on the subject of marriage. I think if I asked her she would say yes. But, she's a successful and busy lawyer and doesn't seem to need it right now."

"Then, I'm happy for you."

House could tell from the calm look on her face, that she was telling him the truth; she was happy for him. Maggie was one of the few people he knew that, when she loved you, your happiness was paramount. "Mags, you're such a fool."

She smiled, "When it comes to you, I'd have to agree."

He couldn't be mad at her; he always had a hard time staying angry at Maggie. He hugged her, "And, don't kid yourself, I know you. I will _always know you_."

Maggie kissed him, nuzzled him. He kissed her back simple and sweet.

They woke up in the morning, House immediately looking at the clock. "Crap, I have to give my presentation in an hour." He looked back at her sweet face, his nose scrunched up with the knowledge that it was over. This brief taste of sweetness was gone and it was time to say goodbye.

She sat up and smiled at him, "I have to take a plane back to Atlanta in three hours."

They looked at each other with a sadness that was palpable. House shook his head, "This sucks."

Maggie let out a little chuckle, "It sure does. Do you have email?"

"We just got it. My address is 's yours?" House grabbed a pen.

""

She watched him write it on the back of his hand. He put on his sneakers, grabbed his suit coat and bent down to say goodbye.

"Greg, take care. I hope things work out for you."

"You too. Be careful in Africa."

He started out the door, turned and shook his head, "I still think we could have been happy."

Maggie nodded, "Maybe, I'd like to think so. Bye Greg, I really am happy that you found someone."

"I'd be lying if I said I want you to find someone. I don't want to share you with anyone, even if I can't have you."

She sat up, the sheets falling away from her body. House's eyes went directly to her breasts.

He smiled, shaking his head, "Damn Mags, you know how to make it difficult to leave." He walked out, the door closing behind him.

Maggie chuckled to herself, "Obviously not impossible."


	27. Chapter 14 Part II

**Maggie's Story**

**Chapter 14 Part II**

**©Brogan 2008**

House went home to Stacy, who met him at the airport and drove him back to their apartment. After some brief greetings, Stacy was concerned; House was unusually quiet on the way home.

"Greg? What's wrong? You seem distracted. I tried calling you all night, but you didn't answer."

"Really?" House exhaled and shrugged his shoulders, "I saw an old friend in D.C."

"Old friend, who?"

"Maggie Malone."

Stacy held her breath. She'd found a photo album with photos of Greg and as a child, a girl as a child, and then photos of them together, apparently in love. It had been gingerly put together by someone, with great love. The signature at the bottom of the note which said the remainder of the album was for future photos, said, _Love Maggie. _She didn't ask him, because the album was buried deep in a box, which meant that House had buried it too. But now it was all surfacing.

She tried to sound calm, "You mean Maggie, the girl in the photo album?"

He turned, somewhat surprised that she had found it. It meant that she must have been digging pretty deep in his things. "Yes, Maggie in the photo album."

"Did you have sex with her?"

House blew out through his mouth. "Can we talk about this when we get home?" House needed time to figure out how to tell her.

Stacy knew he was stalling, but she also knew House. Pushing him would only result in screaming and numerous red herrings until he was ready to tell her. "Okay."

House unpacked, put his dirty clothes in the hamper, took a shower and dressed. He went out to see a pacing Stacy. He was going to tell her the truth, as much of it as she needed to hear. He made them both a drink and then sat down on the chenille sofa she had purchased for the apartment and began to talk.

"Maggie was my landlord in Philadelphia. We grew close…"

"Did you fall in love?"

House looked at her face. It was filled with anxiety, foreboding. He needed to reassure her, "It was several years ago and, yes, I fell in love. But Maggie is –" He couldn't help but chuckle, a little too fondly, "a complicated person. She's very Irish, boorishly devoted to Catholicism. We never got past that. She wanted marriage, I didn't. She wanted kids, I didn't. When we broke up she went back to her old fiancé and they got married."

Stacy relaxed when she heard that Maggie was married. But, he knew that would be short-lived when he told her about the divorce.

"They're divorced now."

He was right, she immediately tensed up. He reached out and put his arm around her, leaning back against the couch. She melted against his chest, taking comfort in his affection towards her.

"Maggie had a little girl. She died a year or so ago. It caused the divorce. She's still broken up about it. We stayed up talking about it. She did a lot of crying, I did a lot of hand holding. I didn't leave her until this morning. She seemed better when I left. She's in the CDC and off to Africa in a week." He knew that Stacy would relax if she knew Maggie was out of the picture, "She's going to be gone six months to a year chasing down Rift Valley Fever." He could feel Stacy's shoulders relax.

"So you talked to her all night long?"

"I talked and I held her when she started crying." He kissed Stacy's head, "She's lost her husband, her baby and she's away from her family and friends. She doesn't get a chance to talk about it much. I get the feeling that her brother was so distraught over all of it, that she didn't think she could talk to him about it. I never met the little girl, so I think she felt comfortable sharing her pain with me."

Stacy squeezed him, "It's good that you could get her to talk. It must not be easy for her. I've got dinner cooking in the crock pot. Your new JAMA came in today, do you want it?"

He nodded. Watching her get up and rummage through the mail, he thought about Maggie with her beautiful breasts.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I can hardly hear you. What are you using, two cans and a string?"

"Greg…I was hoping…you'd be able to help…" She was yelling as loud as she could into the satellite phone.

"Mags, it's hard to hear you. Where are you?"

"Kenya." She yelled.

"You're _still_ in Kenya?"

"What?" she yelled over the static.

House was frustrated, "Mags, what do you need?"

"…email. Can you …and get back to …_"_

House put his hand up to his forehead and yelled, "Email, I think you're emailing me something, just include any instructions." He hung up.

Maggie looked at the satellite phone receiver, shocked that he had hung up on her. At least he seemed to be amenable to looking at the data for her. That night, Maggie typed in his address and attached the file.

"_Greg, this is all we have for the boy, can you review it and give us some ideas what we're dealing with? Thanks, Mags._ "

House opened the email, a very young and enthusiastic Wilson watched House at the computer. House looked at him, "I've got three lined up. I need a fourth, want to play on Saturday?"

Wilson shrugged, he wasn't sure he wanted to pal around with him. House had a reputation for being the bastard son of Lucifer himself. But, Wilson admitted that he always found House to be interesting as well as brilliant. It was also fun to watch the reaction of people when he told them that he hung out with House. "Sure, what time?"

"_Crap! She could have at least said why she's still in Africa." _

Wilson could tell House was both angry and very preoccupied by his email, "Who? What?"

"9:30."

Wilson wrinkled his brow, "Huh?"

"Golf, 9:30. My old girlfriend, she's been in Africa for almost two years."

House looked at the signature of the email, _Maggie Malone, M.D., CDC Atlanta, GA, World Health Organization (WHO) Hemorrhagic Fever Task Force._

"Apparently, she's moved on from Rift Valley Fever." House took out a piece of paper, reading Maggie's notes:

12 year old Kenyan was admitted to Medical Unit with diarrhea, vomiting, anorexia and weight loss. Local clinic diagnosed Kwashiorkor, but history shows that diet is adequate. Stunted growth, some edema, wasting, weight loss. Fingernails showing koilonychias. ESR 36. Liver function- abnormal total protein of 56. Low serum IgA of 100. IgE also abnormally low, 500. Calcium, phosphates, blood glucose, and B12 all normal. No protein in the urine. Abdomen and chest xrays, normal.

House typed back, _"I take it that your epidemic of Rift Valley Fever Virus was due to the massive rains and flooding a year ago?"_ He sent the email, but realized she probably wouldn't get the email for awhile. House called the CDC in Atlanta and after convincing a doctor there that he was working with Maggie, was informed that there had been massive rains in the area where Maggie was working. He also found out that she was promoted a year ago and WHO requested that she head the Hemorrhagic Fever Task Force.

House did some work on the file, before sending back the following email:

_Malabsorption syndrome could be odd presentation of TB. Despite normal xray, run a Mantoux test, just to rule it out. _

_G. House M.D._

Maggie was excited to see the email and when she read it was somewhat disappointed when it had nothing personal in it. But, Maggie understood; when it came to medicine, House was so focused that the idea of addressing personal matters was probably not in his thought process.

Maggie was about to turn the computer off when the noise indicated an email had arrived. Opening up her Outlook, she saw it was from him.

_Mags. Why are you still in Africa? _

Maggie smiled, he must be up fairly late. It was 9 am in Kenya making it 1 am in Princeton.

_Bigger dicks here. Found nirvana._

She waited, not sure if he was still at the computer. Her heart fluttered when the mail call sounded.

_I didn't think there was a bigger dick than me…_

She laughed out loud. Typing her response, she had a big grin on her lips.

_I said dicks, not pricks._

Maggie waited, still grinning.

_ Ouch. Okay, why are you really there? _

She started typing as fast as she could. _Nothing to come back for in the States. CDC needed an African Regional Director for the Division of Viral and Rickettsial Diseases. It keeps me out of trouble. That is, as long as I stay out of the way of the Mai Mai in the Congo. I leave for Durba in a week, bad hemorrhagic disease popping up. _

She waited. It popped up.

_ Mags, _

_ You know it's not a good idea for you to go anywhere that your mouth could get you in trouble and that's just about anywhere. I suggest you come home while you still have that mouth of yours._

She thought about what might be behind the message and decided--nothing. He was simply stating what her brother, Theresa and others had said as well. They were all worried about her and wanted her to come home.

_ Don't worry, Father Mariette has taken me under his wing. He gave me a special medallion to carry, it keeps me safe._

Maggie took a drink of coke and sat back.

_ Maggie Magdalena Malone, I should have known that you would find a Catholic Church in the middle of an epidemic. Before I go, Mags are you hitting the sauce, popping xanex, eating yourself into a size 24?_

Maggie laughed. This was House's way of asking if she was okay, getting over her tragedies.

_ I usually take my xanex with my whiskey cake (the whole cake) so I'm happy as a clam. Seriously, coming to Africa was good for me, I may never come home._

There was a long pause. She was beginning to think he had gone, but the email popped up.

_ The USA couldn't survive without its tragically flawed Maggie. Enjoy yourself for awhile, but you belong back here. Don't forget that. Take care Mags. Greg._

Maggie turned off the computer and went to tell the doctors to run the test. She spent her day puttering around the camp, spending a few hours working the clinic. In order to keep an eye on what diseases were popping up, Maggie frequently worked the clinic.

At four in the afternoon, a doctor, one of the Italian WHO doctors, came running up to her, "Joseph has an inflammation of the retinal pigment epithelium."

Maggie went back to the computer and emailed House with the news.

He read the message and thought of a journal article he had saved from the eighties.

_ Maggie you need to rule out Renal amyloidosis and glomerulonephritis._ _I'm going to try to find an article that might shed some light. I remember inflammation of the retina was an odd presentation for some zoonotic disease. I'll have to write back to you. _

She went out and had tests run to rule out renal amyloidosis and glomerulonephritis. In the meantime, she ate dinner read a little before getting ready for bed. The computer screen indicated that she had mail. She opened the email and laughed out loud. There was a photo of House with a Pope's cap on.

_ Thought I'd bless you with a photo of Pope Gregory. Mags, are you ready for my diagnosis? Drum roll please. You have an odd presentation of schistosomiasis. It's rare but malabsorption syndrome has been seen in schistosomiasis. It can cause severe hypoproteinaemia and hypoalbuminaemia, caused by a protein losing enteropathy._

_ Give him Praziquantel and steroids, he should get better._

She hit reply.

_Are you sure? What a strange presentation. I need to go run tests to confirm. I'll write and let you know._

Maggie ran off to the hospital tents, finding the doctor on duty, "Dr. Aarons, what did the tests on Joseph show?"

"The tests for Renal amyloidosis and glomerulonephritis aren't back."

"Let's see if we can get him to give us a urine sample, check for _schistosoma."_

The doctor furred his brow, "You think it could be that simple? Why don't we see some of the other symptoms?"

"Because, he's probably had it for awhile. I spent some time on email with Gregory House at PPTH, I'll check back in the morning."

Maggie went back to her bed and slept well for the first time in a long time. There was no doubt in her mind that Greg had diagnosed Joseph and they would save his life. It made her feel great. The next morning she woke up to a very happy staff. Joseph was a favorite of everyone and it was clear from the smiles that House had been right.

Dr. Panguay came up and high fived Maggie, "Aarons left word that your boy wonder was right. Joseph has turned the corner."

Maggie thought back to the day they brought Joseph in to camp. Aarons had found him on the side of the road wandering, gray matter splattered on his shirt. Joseph begged Aarons to help his family and the other villagers. Agreeing to help, Aarons made Joseph take him to his village. The village was small, perhaps a dozen huts. Joseph quickly ran into his family's hut, screaming out for his sister and mother. Aarons found the woman and teenage girl, naked, both with their heads brutally bashed in. Checking the other three huts nearby, he found similar scenes. Most of the men were dead, in a pile, behind the village.

After getting Joseph back to the camp, he finally told them that a small gang came through the area raping and killing. One of them raped his sister and mother and, when they were done, smashed their heads in, splattering Joseph. Just when he was about to kill Joseph, one of the men from the village ran by with a large stick and so the man was distracted, running after the older man. Joseph escaped.

**Thanks to those who have posted reviews. I'm getting hits, but only a few of you leave a review. It's rather frustrating after all the work that goes into writing a story. I'd appreciate it if you'd just let me know if you're enjoying the story or not. Your review is the only pay we receive after hundreds of hours of writing, editing and not to mention what a pain it is to post. So please take that into consideration when you read anyone's story. Again, thanks for reading.**


	28. Chapter 15 Africa

**Chapter 15**

**Africa**

I giggled and squirmed as I started up the computer, impatient as I waited for Outlook to load so that I could contact him. I hit the 'new message' and began typing.

_Greg!_

_Good news. You were right. Joseph is doing much better now. I'm really grateful. _

_Love, Mags._

There was no response, it was midnight in New Jersey and I really didn't expect one. I turned the computer off and spent the day preparing for my trip to Durba. Around 4:30 I returned to my tent and pulled up my email. I looked quickly for Greg House, MD. There was one message.

_How grateful?_

I had to smile. I typed, _Grateful enough to tell the CDC we owe you one._

His response came back a few minutes later. _I can think of ways you can pay me back._

I laughed as I typed, _Something tells me it involves Crisco, plastic sheets and autoeroticism._

I waited. The message arrived within a minute.

_I love it when you flirt with me Mags. How are you?_

_--Getting ready to go to Durba. I need to get packed. What are you doing this weekend?_

_I'm not flying to Durba! LOL--I'm playing golf with my girlfriend, then dinner with friends. Bet you wish you led my exciting life._

_--Hey, I'd give my right arm for some Scrapple. Boring would be good..too much drama in my life. Enjoy yourself. Got to go, take care and thanks again. Bye._

_--Mags, when you get to Durba, send me an email. Let me know how you're doing. Bye, Greg._

I was happy, not only had Joseph been saved, but I had reconnected in a positive way with Greg. Maybe we _could _be friends.

"Sek' o' ta'?" I asked Aarons. I had just been told that Sek' o' ta' was the village we were supposed to drive to that day.

Aarons handed me the map and a list of vaccination runs, "Yeah, you do the vaccinations today and I'll do them next week. It's only two hours from here. Take Joseph, he says his aunt lives down there. Maybe he can reconnect with someone."

I grabbed the vaccines, a portable table, two chairs, my handgun and the Uzi. Making sure I had some ammunition, I grabbed water, some fruit, granola bars and was off. Joseph was riding 'shotgun'. We talked a little as the jeep bounced down the dirt road. About an hour into the drive I saw Joseph go rigid, staring at a jeep in the distance. It was parked between three huts.

He pointed, "Maggie, those are the men who killed my family."

I slowed the jeep and looked over, but all I could see was the brown jeep with a raised fist painted on the back. I saw no men.

"Joseph, I don't see anyone. "

"That is their jeep." He pointed, looking anxiously back at me, "Maggie, they killed my mother, my sister, my father."

"I know…" I saw one come out with a young girl. He had her by the hair and was dragging her, her breasts were exposed. I kept driving so that they would'nt suspect that we had seen anything. I drove around and circled back, up behind the huts, about fifty yards away. I told Joseph to stay in the jeep, but he refused. I grabbed the Uzi and put the hand gun in my waist band in my back under my camp shirt.

"Joseph, how many are there?" I whispered. We could hear crying and yelling coming from two of the huts.

"There were three."

I motioned for him to get behind me, "How many guns?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Did they each have a gun?"

"No, the one with my sister only had a knife, but he was the leader."

"Okay." I nodded.

I knew I should go get help, but who and where? I was in an area I had never been in. I saw two dead men behind a house and two guys with a woman. They were pulling her hair and cutting her breasts. I was starting to get sick to my stomach. I flashed to the night I was raped inside Cavenaugh's. The rage grew in me and I could feel my entire body heating up.

They both had guns, but didn't know I was twenty feet behind them. I waited until they dropped her, both raising their guns, about to shoot her. I opened up on both of them with the Uzi. They looked like jerking puppets under the force of the bullets ripping through their bodies. We walked up to the girl and saw that she was already dead. She had been stabbed and bleeding while they raped her.

I pushed Joseph behind me.

"Maggie, these aren't the ones who killed my mother."

I already knew there was a third one in the second hut because we heard a woman crying and a man screaming at her. It was silent now. Obviously, the Uzi going off alerted him to our arrival. I could see a man trying to look outside the door. He had a young woman pressed up against him with a knife up to her throat. I didn't see a gun so I went inside the hut, my Uzi aimed at him.

His eyes were wild, full of both fear and hate. He snarled at me, "Put your gun down or I kill her. Come on lady, I'll kill her, put the gun down."

The young woman was maybe 19 or 20. She was exhausted, her clothes in shreds, blood on her thighs. He started to stick the knife slowly into her neck. I held up a hand, and slowly put the Uzi down. He let the girl fall as he started forward for the gun. I slipped my hand to the back, whipping out the handgun, pointing it at his head. He stopped short of the Uzi, putting his hands in the air to surrender.

"Okay lady, you win. I give up." His palms slid up in surrender.

I looked at the poor girl, now on the floor, looking at me for protection. She would never be the same. Her family was probably dead outside, her body ravaged, her mind tormented. I looked at the man standing there, trying to smile at me, hoping a smile would save his life.

I smiled back, "Oh dear, I think you just lunged for my gun." I looked at him and all I could see was a rapist. Two bullets, one to his forehead and one to the heart, escaped from my gun. He was dead before he hit the ground, eyes open in shock. I looked at Joseph and the twelve year old gave me a look of savage approval I'll never forget.

We spent the rest of the day getting help for the girl and the two others who were still alive.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Twenty-three scientists from twelve different countries converged in Durba to observe, investigate and treat the Marburg outbreak, mostly among the Gold miners outside of Durba. The Marburg virus, together with the four known Ebola viruses, makes up the virus family known as filoviruses. These viruses cause a rare type of serious illness known as hemorrhagic (bleeding) fever. Marburg hemorrhagic fever can occur in both humans and other primates.

The first case of this outbreak had been observed in December 1998, but because of the political unrest, wasn't reported right away. We spent hours digging up information on the earlier cases that had not been reported to put together the entire picture. Marburg virus infection was confirmed in 5 of 16 patients in the ward at the hospital. What made this outbreak so important was that person-to-person transmission had been demonstrated. This meant the Durba outbreak was the first epidemic of Marburg virus disease not involving laboratory contamination. Initial epidemiologic findings suggested that the first cases involved miners who were probably infected by contact with an animal reservoir such as bats.

I headed up the vector team and spent most of my time taking histories and trying to trace the outbreak to patient zero. Surprisingly, we discovered that the first case could be traced to a man who lived in the outskirts of town, but frequently rode his bike through the secondary jungle during the day. He also rode his bike through the primary forest during the night, sometimes spending the night in the jungle. I was never clear what he did in the jungle, but the fact that he had contact with the jungle meant our work would be much more complicated. Trying to find the vector in a jungle is always like trying to find the proverbial needle.

We bagged 63 monkeys, 22 mice, 18 rats, 19 bats and 12 other mammals, 14 species of birds, hundreds of arthropods and still didn't find the disease in any of them. We were at a loss. The bodies kept piling up as the weeks went by. Just when we'd manage to get it under control in one village, another village would start reporting cases. Early symptoms of Marburg hemorrhagic fever include sudden fever, chills, and muscle aches. A skin rash may appear five days after, followed by nausea, vomiting, chest pain, a sore throat, abdominal pain or diarrhea. Later symptoms can become increasingly severe. But when they first present, they are often mistaken for malaria or typhoid fever.

"I feel like a failure." I said one evening as I sat on my cot, eating my beans and toast.

Nadia was with the World Health Organization and was a veteran, "Maggie, you're doing a great job. We've ruled out more vectors in two months than we did with the last outbreak of Ebola in two years. You're doing fine. Stop whinging."

"Whinging?"

"You Americans would say, whining."

"Ah, be careful what you ask for, without my self-pity, I'm just a cockeyed optimist and they're a little hard to stomach in the jungle."

She laughed. "I love Americans, they have so much energy."

I hadn't tried to contact Greg since I left Kenya. I had no reason to and I didn't want him to think that I was trying to start something with him. I didn't want him to botch things with the lawyer; I already felt guilty for that night in D.C. several years ago. I decided that I would send him a birthday card to his office rather than email him. Emailing was too intimate in a way. You could flirt back and forth, have a conversation. I didn't want that. I wanted to tell him that I still thought of him, but I respected his relationship with the lawyer. I purchased the card in Durba and sent it. I received nothing back.

Our team managed to clean up Marburg in the Congo. As a result of my work in the field, wallowing in biosafety level 4 pathogens, I was now at the top of my game. I knew Marburg and the filoviruses like the back of my hand. I was valuable to the CDC and the government. The CDC called me back to the USA at the end of 2000.

I was thirty-two years old and spending most of my life devoted to organisms so tiny only the electron microscope could give us a picture of them. I had seen so much suffering and violence in Africa, that I had come home with a much more relaxed attitude towards God, the Church and myself. I was impressed with the work being done by the Catholic charities, but my faith in God was not as dogmatic. I felt closer to God in many ways, but he was no longer the God that had a list of venial and mortal sins, ready to slap you down if you violated the list. I still said the Rosary and I still said a prayer every night for my family. Before I drifted to sleep my last prayer was for Greg. _Dear Lord, protect and keep Greg safe and please make sure he has love in his life._

I worked for a few months in Atlanta before being loaned out to the U.S. Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases (USAMRIID) in Frederick, Maryland, about three and a half hours southwest of Princeton, NJ. I was assigned to the biosafety lab 4 level with the intention of trying to develop a vaccine for Ebola.

Most people know that the first outbreak of Ebola in the United States occurred in Reston, Virginia. It turned out to be a new strain, which had come to the USA via a Philippine monkey breeding farm, a farm for growing monkeys for lab experiments. During the outbreak, four humans became infected, but, lucky for them, the Ebola-Reston strain was much less virulent in humans, and the patients essentially suffered flu like symptoms. Nonetheless, Ebola-Reston had the distinction of being the first Ebola that appeared to travel through the air. Direct contact with someone exposed was not necessary to get it. We wanted to discover why the Reston strain was so different and, whether we could develop a vaccine from it. But the government wanted it done through the Army so that any vaccine would remain within military control.

I viewed the training tapes for USAMRID sterilization protocols. They were very similar to ours in Atlanta. The Biosafety level 4 lab is self-contained. That means that the air in the lab is re-circulated through a high temperature furnace to kill any viruses or bacteria. To go inside the lab, we go through several levels of procedures to protect us from contamination.

My first day in the lab was always nerve wracking. You don't know where everything is and so you have the greatest potential for knocking something over, accidentally stabbing yourself or doing something that can breach your protective gear. A few minutes after showing up, I went into the shower room where we scrub our entire bodies for several minutes before putting on scrubs that have been autoclaved. We then put on our biosafety suits which each have their own air system that connects to treated air tanks in the ceiling above us. After we have our biosafety suits on, we are showered with a solution of ammonia and use a toilet brush to scrub our suits. Then and only then can we go inside to do our work. When we come out, we do the procedure in reverse.

I was introduced to several doctors, some that I already knew from the CDC, projects and symposiums. I was then introduced to Josh, our Information Technology (IT) guy. Although he was dressed like the rest of us in a mass of biohazard gear, he was trying desperately to fix our computer system which had gone down the night before. He had a great smile, which was about all I could see through the biohazard mask.

I spent the day orientating myself in the lab, trying to find and manipulate the different pieces of equipment as well as locate things like beakers, slides, fixative, all the things I needed to do my job. I finally started to exit the lab around 6:30 pm. I was behind Josh, who had started the exiting procedures five minutes before me. I watched as he scrubbed his suit and smiled when he waved and exited into the personal showers. By the time I was done, it was 7:00 pm. I walked into the outer office, dressed in my pencil skirt and blouse, surprised to see Josh standing, apparently waiting for me. I recognized him from the smile.

"Maggie, right?" he asked.

"Yes. Josh, right?"

He nodded and continued to smile, "How was your first day?"

"Mundane."

He laughed. "Well, I'm hungry, want to go grab some food? I know a Mexican place that serves great Chicken Mole."

"Ohhh, I don't know if I like Chicken Mole. I've never had it."

"You don't have to get Chicken Mole, but it'd be nice to have the company. I don't know too many people here. I'm on loan from the Navy, no one else was available with my experience with this system. So here I am."

"I'm on loan too. CDC." I thought about it. Josh had the greatest smile, nice eyes, firm, defined muscles. I hadn't been asked out for a long time by someone I was actually attracted to; I was flattered. "Sure, I'll go with you. I'm hungry too."

We walked to his car and then drove to a small, but nice, Mexican Restaurant. I tried the Chicken Mole after being told it was made with chocolate. After living in Africa for so long, I learned not to turn my nose up at anything. It turned out that I liked Chicken Mole and I liked Josh. He was a year younger than me, but very bright, really intelligent. He had gone through a messy divorce recently which made me the first person he had gone out with, not a good sign. Being the first date after the end of an important relationship almost always spelled doom. But, we talked and laughed about so many different subjects that when I got home that night, I had trouble remembering them all. He genuinely seemed to enjoy my company; I know I enjoyed his. Getting ready for bed, I couldn't help but think it was nice to have something to smile about again.

I lived in a suburb not too far from AMRID, renting a two bedroom brick townhouse. After showering I went to bed, but had a hard time sleeping because I was excited. It had been a long time since I had met a man that held my interest. Josh had, not only held my interest, but kept me entertained all evening. I was really looking forward to the next day at work.

When I arrived the next day, I looked for Josh, but when I didn't see him, I assumed that he was already in the lab. I went through the ritual and entered the lab, still looking for him, but he wasn't there. I didn't ask anyone at first; I didn't want to appear too eager. Plus, it's really hard to hear inside the biosuits with the oxygen whooshing into your helmet. We normally wear earplugs. Finally, after beginning to conduct tests on the Reston virus, Rhiannon, one of the virologists, and I left the lab for lunch. As we showered our suits, I asked an innocuous question.

"Where's the techie that was here yesterday?" I asked without affect.

"Oh, he's down in Biosafety Lab 2. He's working on the old computer system down there. He's trying to keep the system up and running until they can change it out. Apparently, they ran into a problem and Josh is the only one who knows how to fix it. You know, when they do get up here to change out to the new computer system, it's going to be difficult. I don't know how they're going to be able to change it out wearing our suits and gloves, it's got to be hard to manipulate computer components in our suits."

I stopped by Biosafety Lab 2 which only requires a 95 mask, booties, gown and paper cap. I peaked in through the first door and smiled. Josh was sitting at a desk, demonstrating something for what looked like another techie. Someone pointed at me and he turned.

I waved, "Lunch?"

"Sorry, can't. Crucial point. Dinner?"

The whole lab looked at me. I'm sure I blushed, "Okay. What time?"

"Six?"

"Fine."

I went off smiling to myself. I'd trade lunch for dinner any day. I was eating yogurt at the table and playing with my email when a message popped up. It was Greg. My heart flip flopped. I clicked on the message.

_Where the hell are you?_

I chuckled, typical Greg. No hello, no pleasantries, just what he wants to know. I typed back, _I'm back in the USA…why? Oh, and how are you?_

_-I've got a case of Hantavirus. I'm supposed to notify the CDC. Consider this your notification._

_-Not funny. You need to call Atlanta._

_-I'm notifying you. Are you going to come and check it out?_

I was probably the closest CDC investigator in the area, but still, it wasn't my call. _I'll call Atlanta. Start sending me your data._

_-I'm fine. Just won the PPTH golf tournament and a trip to the Bahamas._

_-Good for you. I'm working at USAMRID in Biosafety Level 4!_

There was a long pause. _You stupid, pathetic, moron. Why would anyone do that?_

I started laughing so loud people around me in the lunch room started staring.

_-We can't all have cushy jobs like yours._

_-Yeah, but you can have a safer job. Really, what's wrong with you? Deathwish? First Africa, now Deathcon 6?_

_-Dr. House, you exaggerate. I'm so protected, I can hardly do my job._

_-What are you working with?_

-I wasn't sure how classified my work was. _Nasty hooks._

_-Ebola?_

_-Maybe._

_-Come and see me. I have Hanta …right up your alley._

_-I'll get back to you._

I called Atlanta and talked to the epidemiologist that would normally be sent, Dr. Josephine Marconi. I was put on speaker phone with Josephine and her boss, Commander Irving Young.

"He notified you and not us?"

"Yes, we're old friends."

There was a deafening silence. I heard Irving ask cautiously, "Friends? You're friends with Gregory House?"

I heard Josephine whisper in the back, "I didn't think he had friends."

I smiled, "Yes, we met when I was in med school. He was my lodger."

Josephine sounded excited, "We get notified by Dr. House two, maybe three, times a year that he's discovered a reportable disease. Does this mean we can send you?"

I laughed, "Yes, I have no problems with Greg House. You just need to ignore him when he's being a jerk. He eventually comes back to earth. But, if you react, then you just feed into it."

Irving laughed, "Consider Greg House your responsibility from now on. Whenever he reports, we'll send you. Believe me, you'll be doing us all a favor. Last time, Josephine was sick and I went. I came really close to popping him in the nose."

"Oh, that's been done before. It just feeds his ego to know he's gotten to you. Fine, I'll leave in the morning."

I hung up the phone and checked to see if there were any military flights going near Princeton, but there weren't any. I had to fly commercial to Trenton. After I made my reservations, I opened my laptop and brought up my email

_-It seems like I'm getting screwed while everyone else is getting laid. I'll see you tomorrow. It appears that no one else wants the job. God forgive you… apparently, you're the bane of the CDC._

_-Oh, God will forgive me. That's his job after all. _

_-You are proof that you give a jackass an education and you get a smartass._

_-I love you too. See you tomorrow Mags. Do you need me to pick you up?_

_-No. I'll rent a car. Bye._

I wondered why I was always smiling when we communicated. It had been ten years since we had been together, yet here I was, feeling like a school girl. I had to remind myself that he was in the fifth year of a relationship.

I thought about Josh and realized that I had a very nice, funny and sexy guy wanting to take me out to dinner. It was time to stay focused on the present. I went back to work, gowning up and enjoying the afternoon, making progress on ideas for making and testing vaccines. Around 5:30pm, I started through the sterilization process and by 6:00 pm I was out front, waiting for Josh. He came running out, dressed in jeans, sweater and black jacket. He looked great.

"Ahhggg, get me out of here. Those Army IT guys are idiots. I can see why they had to bring someone in from the outside." He took a breath, "I chose last night, you choose where we eat."

"I don't know any places."

He smiled and ventured an arm around her, "Sure you do. Applebees, Chilis, Macaroni Grill, Dennys. Although please don't pick Denny's, I'd really like to wake up in the morning and not need Pepto Bismol as a chaser for my coffee."

"Chilis. I like their desert."

"Chilis it is."

We went to Chilis and ordered our drinks first. I had a Mojito and he ordered a Gin and Tonic. We were doing a lot of smiling across the table, more than the average couple. I couldn't help it, in some ways he reminded me of Greg, he was witty and acerbic, but also much sweeter and nicer than Greg.

"I'm off to Princeton in the morning."

"Princeton? For Good?"

"No, just to investigate a case of Hantavirus."

"Will you be gone for the weekend?

"Probably. It will take a few business days for me to finish it."

"Do you need a ride to the airport in the morning? I could pick you up."

"Yes and no. I'd like a ride, but I don't want you to pick me up. Why don't you just stay the night?'

He chuckled, "Dr. Malone, are you soliciting me?"

"Josh Yakov, I believe I am."

"Whew, I was hoping it wasn't a hallucination caused from me not eating lunch."

"Oh, it might be a hallucination, but what a great trip."

"Maggie Malone, you better not be a tease."

"Teasing is just what I plan to do. Do you like whip cream and honey with your sex?"

"Who doesn't?"

"Well, then, when we're done here, follow me."

We drove to my house. I have to admit I was nervous. You know, you get those wobbly feelings in your stomach and then you get a little jittery. You start wondering about your breath, your body odor, your figure, your performance, you keep wondering if you're going to disappoint him or each other. But that's balanced by the excitement of the actual act and the possibility it may lead to something more like…well, something more.


	29. Chapter 16 Part I Out of Africa

**Maggie's Story**

**Chapter 16 **

**Out of Africa and Into the Fire**

Josh followed me up the porch and into the townhome like the Energizer Rabbit. It was fun to see him so excited and optimistic about the evening. It made me optimistic too. It's always awkward, you walk in together, but you don't know how to get from point A to B; A being the neutral living room, B being the proving ground. The question is, do you jump each other, or play it cool and talk for awhile, have a drink to loosen you up?

I didn't have time to think about that. Josh was a jumper. He whipped me around and gave me a very nice, sensual kiss that sent all the right signals. I recognized the spicy, woodsy cologne as _Attitude, _by Armani. Underneath, I could smell a soap smell, like Ivory. He passed the smell test with high colors.

He kissed my ear, "You smell good."

"I was just thinking the same thing about you."

"Uh, I hate to be a spoil sport, but where's your bathroom?"

"Over there." I nodded in the direction of the bathroom.

He wandered off and I took a deep breath. I took off my coat and hung it up then made my way to the kitchen. I passed by the bathroom and heard the water in the sink. In the refrigerator were two bottles of water, I took them out of the refrigerator and turned to see him standing in the kitchen doorway, jacket over his arm.

"You can hang that up or just leave it on the chair."

He smiled. He had a fresh, honest smile, which contrasted with the cynical smile Greg always gave me. I gave him a bright smile back. He put his jacket over the chair, walking over to me. He put an arm around my waist and leaned in for a brief, but enticing, slow and sensual kiss.

He wiggled his eyebrows, "Bedroom?"

"Upstairs." I handed him a bottle of water and then took his hand, leading him through the hall and up the stairs. We walked into my bedroom, put our water on the night stand and both sat down on the edge of the bed. Josh needed no coaxing, he found my lips, giving me a deep kiss as he ran his hand from my knee up to my hip. He gently pushed me back so that I was lying on the bed. I reached down and rubbed the bulge in his trousers, increasing the length of our kisses as I rubbed. Josh teased me by gently rubbing the inside of my upper thigh without touching the crotch of my panties. I wanted him to touch all of me, my breasts, my clit, everything, but it was he who was doing the teasing.

He pulled back and smiled seductively at me, knowing what he was doing was torture. I narrowed my eyes feigning to chastise him, but he just smiled. His hand went up my sweater to my bra. Feeling my breasts through the satin of my bra, he was tickling my nipples. I started undoing his belt. But he grabbed my hand.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. No rush, I want to torture you with pleasure and then we'll pleasure each other. "

I stopped and let him kiss me again. He undid my trousers. Standing up, he pulled them slowly down my legs, stopping to bend down and kiss the satin of my panties. The trousers off, I now lay on my back with just my trousers socks covering my legs, not a very sexy look, but one which didn't see to ruffle Josh. He took each sock off slowly and then sucked my big toe as he delicately brushed my legs with his fingers. At first I was self-conscious, wondering if my toe smelled or tasted funny, but after I felt Josh sucking and stroking my leg, I said to myself, "What the hell, just sit back and enjoy it."

Once I relaxed, I began to realize how sensual it was. My breathing was erratic and I could hear my heart beat. He slipped his torso up between my legs and then I felt the feather touch of his hands as they slipped up my sweater. I helped him as we took the DNKY knockoff sweater over my head. Josh leaned down and kissed the tops of my breast, then his tongue traced from my breasts up my throat to my lips. Our mouths found each other.

As we gave each other an open-mouth kiss, Josh slipped his hand underneath my back and snapped open my bra. Rubbing his fingers around the edge of the loosened bra, he rested his hand just below my breast. His finger outlined the curves as he continued to lay half on and half off of me on the bed. I wanted him to grab my breast, fondle it, suckle it, pinch it, but he didn't, not yet. Instead Josh's hand slid down the curve of my waist to my panties, stopping with just a single finger tip resting under the elastic of my panties. I think I let a moan slip out, I didn't mean to, but the feel of his hand caressing my body was so exquisite, I couldn't help it. He teased, rubbing his fingertip along the edge of the elastic without going further.

After playing with my panties, he lifted up and pulled my bra off. Letting out a deep sigh of satisfaction, he blew his warm breath on my nipples. I could feel them harden, the areolas swelling. I tingled all over. I looked up and he smiled at me. His hand came up touched the underside of my breast ever so lightly. Opening his mouth, he took my breast in it and began to suck, hard and fast.

My voice was raspy, my throat constricted, "Josh…I want to touch you."

He unbuckled his belt and undid his trousers. I reached in and touched the head of his cock. Wet and warm, I held the head firmly before sliding my hand down the shaft to his balls and back up again. Looking down, I could see the blue vein that ran down the middle of his cock. His mouth flew open from my touch and a slight groan escaped.

Josh started pulling his clothes off and throwing them on the floor. Dark hair sprouted on his chest, just the way I liked it. I ran my hand through it. He rolled a little to my side, watching as he slipped his hand under the elastic of my pink bikini panties and down to my crotch. I knew I was wet and when he put his hand between my legs, he looked up at me with a grin. I was sopping.

He nibbled my ear and then said softly, "Are you on birth control or do you want me to wear a rubber?"

"I don't do birth control, I'm Catholic."

Everything came to a halt.

He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes, "This is the year, 2000, the New Millennium, and you're still listening to what the Pope says?"

I felt like _Déjà vu all over again_. "Look, we can either debate Catholicism or you can fuck me. What will it be?"

He raised his eyebrows, "I'll get a condom out of my wallet, your majesty."

He reached down, grabbed his wallet and took out the condom. It looked like he had kept it in there for quite awhile. I figured that he was probably used to sleeping with women who took the pill or wore a diaphragm. He didn't miss a beat, he stood up, pulled my panties off in one quick movement, pulled his boxers down and dressed himself. He crawled between my legs, pushing them open further with his knees. He took his penis and rubbed my clit slowly, sending hot waves of electricity through my body. The feel of his penis against me made me crazy. I wanted him inside and I wanted him now.

"Josh, now! Fuck me, now."

He chuckled, "Impatient aren't we?"

But, he didn't hold back, pushing up inside me as I begged for it.

"God, yes. That's it. I need to feel you." I whispered.

He started to pull me, still impaled, towards the edge of the bed, where he stood up, holding my legs under the crook of the knees as he started to thrust hard and fast. I looked down to where the action was. I could see my breasts bouncing and further down, I saw a couple of inches of his cock as it disappeared into me. He put my right leg over his shoulder and began rubbing my clit. That was all it took. I started screaming.

"Josh! Josh! Fuck me! Fuck me!"

His face crumpled and he let out a loud groan. He stopped at the deep end of his thrust and then gave me four more sharp thrusts before exhaling. He didn't pull out; he started rubbing my clit until my breath was uneven again. I could feel my thigh muscles contract and hold along with my abdomen. It felt like a sexual congestion building in my pelvic area. He rubbed some more as I watched. The tingling started under his finger and then traveled quickly through my vagina and up my body to my nipples. I could feel my vaginal muscles clench down around his semi-flacid cock. It felt so good, I hadn't had an orgasm rock me like that in years. When the orgasm subsided, he pulled out.

"Damn Maggie, you're so tight, your breasts perfectly round, I even like your lovely, round abdomen." He slowly lowered my legs and then turned to go to the bathroom. I heard the toilet flush and the water in the sink run.

He came out and I was still sprawled, trying to get my breath. He laughed, "Nice view."

I slapped my legs closed, embarrassed.

He winced, "Oh! Don't! I meant it. You're body is beautiful. If I had another condom, I'd take you again, right now. You look hot, like the spent maiden."

He came over and lay down next to me, drawing circles with his fingers around my nipples. I looked down between his legs and noted that he was circumcised. I wasn't surprised, most American men are. It was just that, after Greg, I always checked. Greg had been born in Naples at the Navy base in Italy. He hadn't been circumcised since the Italian doctors didn't believe it was necessary. I glanced back at Josh and smiled; he was asleep. I wasn't upset, it had been a long day for both of us. Add good food, alcohol and great sex and we were both ready for some sleep.

I woke him, "Come on sailor, get under the sheets."

He was a little fuzzy, but he obeyed and got into bed. I took a long drink of water, went downstairs and locked up and came back. He was on his side, slightly curled, looking innocent and sweet. I crawled in bed, turned off the light and rolled onto my side. Before long, a strong arm reached around me and pulled me into his body. We spent most of the night spooned together until the alarm went off in the morning. I sat up and got my bearings. I looked and noted Josh and remembered, today I would see Greg. My heart fluttered and then raced. I shook my head; after all this time I still got excited just by the thought of seeing him.

I went in and showered, delighted when Josh joined me. He had a nice build, plenty of muscles, but not overdone. It amazed me that, despite these nice muscles, he was incredibly gentle when he soaped me down. I wished he had another condom, although I would have probably gone commando, I was that turned on. I turned the water to a slow trickle and got down on my knees. He let out a chuckle of anticipation. My mouth went around his erection and I heard him inhale deeply.

I dipped down and felt his balls, taking one in my mouth as my hand wrapped around his shaft and slowly rubbed up. I'd suck and rub down, suck and slide up. The water was beating down on my naked body. I continued with the other ball and the licked from the base of his shaft to the rim, flicking his head with my tongue until I felt him jerk from the pleasure. He tasted salty, the semen already making the head glisten. My hand continued its rhythm along his shaft as I took the head in my mouth and let my tongue lick around the edge. Josh's hair was dark and curly and it framed his cock perfectly. I felt him shift and try to push back further into my mouth. I wasn't sure I was going to be able to take him in any further, but I did. He was breathing again, but it was erratic. Palms flat on the tile and shower door, he began thrusting, small sharp thrusts into the back of my throat. I held on to his butt to keep from being knocked over. Feeling his tight muscles, made me wish again that he had another condom. I could feel his whole body tense and then he exploded, the warm semen going down the back of my throat. He moaned a little, the sound echoing in the bathroom. When he was done, he pulled out slowly and then backed up against the back of the shower, leaning on it to get his breath. I looked up and laughed. He looked so satisfied.

He shook his head and smiled, "You laugh, you don't have to go to work and know that you're leaving for Princeton, that you'll be gone. This has to get me through the next …whatever days."

"You could come up to Princeton on the weekend?"

He shook his head, "We'll be working on the system next weekend while the lab is down."

"Bummer." I stood up and let the water run in my mouth. He washed up and we got out of the shower.

Pulling down my smaller suitcase, I quickly packed it. I grabbed my folding suit carrier and packed a couple of suits, my sexiest ones. I wasn't expecting any action from Greg, I just wanted him to know that I had kept my figure. I think most women try to look their best around people, especially men that they haven't seen in awhile.

Josh drove me to the airport and I made him drop me off at the curb. I reached over and pecked him on the lips. He grabbed me and gave me a nice kiss, just a little tongue and a slight grazing of my breast. It was like a little appetizer of things to come.

I pulled back and wiggled my eyebrows, "I had a great time."

"So did I. Too good. It's going to be hard not knowing when I can see you next. Can you call me?"

"I might get really involved in what I'm doing, but I'll try to call. You're plugged into my cell phone. I better go. See you soon."

"Bye Maggie." He gave me those puppy dog eyes and I had to resist the urge of jumping back in the car and going home with him.


	30. Chapter 16 Part II Out of Africa

**Chapter 16 **

**Part II**

**Out of Africa into the Fire**

The plane ride to Trenton was easy enough. I rented a car and drove to the Embassy Suites in Princeton. Once I registered, I went and freshened up, put on my suit and stepped back to look in the mirror. The suit was a Navy blue pinstripe I bought through the Victoria Secret Catalogue. The skirt was a pencil skirt with back pleats that came from just below the curve of my butt. The coat was pocketless and I decided not to wear a blouse or tank under it. So there was plenty of cleavage to show off. I put on some Acqua Di perfume and a brownish-red lipstick to highlight the rest of my makeup. I grabbed my briefcase and was out the door.

I had to ask directions to the hospital, but it was easy to find. I walked into the front and announced myself, "Hi, I'm here to see Dr. House. I'm Maggie Malone from the CDC."

The nurse nodded and went to pick up the phone. A woman, short, black haired and packed tight in a suit, held up her hand and stopped the nurse.

"I'll take it from here, Nancy." She walked over and held out her hand to shake, "I'm Lisa Cuddy, Dean of Medicine and Dr. House's supervisor. I'll take you up to his office."

"Thank you."

"You're here for the Hanta case?" She pressed the button for the elevator.

I nodded, "Yes, when was it diagnosed?" I watched her as we got into the elevator. She was about my height, but I was slightly taller in my three inch high heels which I now regretted wearing.

"Three days ago, the same day he phoned you."

We got off the elevator and took two rights and were standing in front of two large offices, one with _Gregory House M.D._ written on it. My heart raced and I could feel myself getting giddy. I couldn't believe it had been three years. Dr. Cuddy opened the door and we entered.

Greg looked up and gave me the obvious once over. He was older, his hair curly brown, his face clean shaven and his eyes still that piercing blue. He got up and walked around the desk, slipped his arms around my waist and gave me a big hug. It lasted longer than it should for two friends, but I waited until I felt him relax before backing out of it. The longer his arms stayed around me, the calmer and more comfortable I felt. As I stood there, his mouth came down and I thought he was going to kiss my lips. My heart flipped, but then I felt the pressure on my cheek. His nose dragged lightly across my cheek as he pulled away.

I was bright red, knowing that this had to look much more intimate than two old friends saying hello. But when I looked at Cuddy, she didn't let on that it was anything more than that.

"Hello Greg, good to see you."

"You too Mags. I'm glad you're safe and sound in the USA." He turned to Dr. Cuddy, "If you read most of the medical articles on the outbreak of Marburg and Ebola in Africa over the last four years, you'll see that Maggie wrote a lot of them. She's becoming the guru of bad-ass infectious diseases."

"Thanks, how much do I owe you for the flattery?"

"Lunch."

Dr. Cuddy, gave a courtesy smile, "Dr. Malone, I have to get back, but the CDC has our full cooperation."

"Thank you."

Dr. Cuddy left. I turned back to Greg who was grinning.

"Mags, you look hotter each time I see you. You've really grown up. I'm so tempted to throw you on the floor and ravish you."

"Yeah, well I can see that photo on your desk which means you're still seeing someone. Is it the lawyer?"

He nodded. "Just gone five years now." He leaned in for more emphasis, _"No marriage, no children."_

"I'm happy for you. It's everything _you wanted_ in a relationship. I hope it lasts. I really, really do." Of course the fact that he was rubbing it in my face that he had the relationship of his dreams and I didn't, made me incredibly sad. Still, I could report that I had a man in my life…okay for less than a week, but it was still something. "I'm seeing someone."

He gave me that cynical look of his, "Seeing? Not engaged, married or ready to annul?"

"Not funny. Shall we go to lunch?"

"Sure."

We got in line and were joined by another doctor. He was young, close to my age and very good looking, almost pretty. He had beautiful brown eyes, straight brown hair and he smiled easily. He looked at House.

"Mind if I join you?"

I wanted Greg all to myself, at least for a few minutes, but I didn't want to seem to "want him" so I politely smiled and nodded to Greg, "I don't mind."

I bought us both lunch, although I don't know why and we sat down. Greg didn't bother to introduce me.

"I'm Maggie Malone from…"

"The CDC. I know. House told me you were coming and that I had to meet you."

Greg took a bite of sandwich, "I told him you were single and hot. Wilson is in-between wives. He believes in marriage…he's had two. You two could do worse than to get together."

Wilson's eyes closed as he grimaced from embarrassment. I wasn't embarrassed; I was hurt. I didn't want him to play matchmaker. I wanted him to secretly always want and love me. I kept forgetting that it had been well over ten years since we had lived together. He had managed to get back on the horse. I kept running behind them, shoveling their shit.

"It's alright Dr. Wilson, I used to be Greg's roommate, I know all about his frank humor."

"Call me Jim."

We all sat down and Greg proceeded to ask me rather interesting questions about Africa. He seemed genuinely interested in the diseases I had seen and diagnosed. Jim was interested too, but I wasn't sure if it was in Africa or me. Greg kept teasing both of us about going out until finally Jim managed to shut him up.

Jim turned to me after one of Greg's rude remarks, "You know, I'd like to make it up to you and maybe show you Princeton, have dinner with you."

I think I drew in a breath, rather flattered that he still wanted to ask me out after suffering through Greg's crap. I looked at Greg and took great satisfaction that he was injured. I don't think he really thought that Jim would ask me out. He went quiet.

"I'd like that."

Greg blurted out, "Oh, sorry, I forgot to tell you that we have reservations at TomYun Goong Thai Restaurant tonight. Stacy wants to meet you. Dinner's at seven."

I was shocked. There was no way in hell that I wanted to meet Stacy, the love of his life, the woman who managed to make it four plus years without turning him out on his ear. "Greg, I don't know, I think I'd like a quiet evening. A nice evening with Jim would be great."

Greg said nothing, but I could tell he was upset by the way his eyes and mouth dropped slightly.

Jim seemed genuinely pleased and also relished in Greg's disappointment, "What type of food do you like?"

Greg snapped, "Soft pretzels and Cheese Steaks."

I chuckled, "I lived in Africa without pretzels and cheese steaks, Greg." I turned back to Jim and looked into those chocolate brown eyes, "I like Italian."

"I know just the place. I'll pick you up at 7:00 pm? What hotel?"

"Embassy Suites."

Jim stood up and grabbed his tray, "Well, I have to get back to my rounds. I'll see you later."

"Nice meeting you."

After he left, I turned to Greg, "He's really nice."

"But predictable." He kept eating his sandwich and looking around as if he was bored with me.

I wrinkled my forehead, "What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing. Let's go, I'll introduce you to the coughing rat lover."

"What?"

"My Hanta kid likes rats."

We went up to isolation and I looked in to see a somewhat gaunt, pimpled face, teenager watching television. Sitting next to him was probably his mother, dressed in gown, gloves, mask, hat and booties.

I read the file that Greg handed me. Patient, 17 year old student from Trenton, was admitted with fever (onset yesterday), with muscle aches, headaches, dizziness, rapid heart rate, chills, nausea and vomiting.

I saw that he was transferred to Diagnostics when all the usual tests came back negative, including a negative chest x-ray. I read a note in the file that had Greg's handwriting. It stated that the patient had developed abdominal pain. Greg then ordered a new blood test along with the preparation of a slide which showed elevated white blood cell counts with a particular type of unusual white cell in the blood called an immunoblast.

It was at this point that I could read in House's handwriting, "Idiots in clinic failed to ask if he had any pets. _RATS! The kid likes and owns rats, purchased at a local pet shop, Donovan's Arc. Diagnosis: Hantavirus, treatment – supportive lung and heart treatment for when his lungs fill up and he either drowns or swims."_

Okay, I know I shouldn't have, but I started to giggle. It was so Greg. Reading the chart made me realize that Lisa Cuddy must go around the bend at least once a month with him.

Since there is no treatment for Hantavirus, the best way to insure that a person lives is to get them to intensive care where they can be intubated and oxygen therapy started when pulmonary infection sets in. This kid was very lucky. Greg had diagnosed him before he went into the pulmonary phase which meant he received immediate lung support. Plus, the kid was strong. He survived, but frequently people get sent home with the diagnosis of the flu, only to die on their way back into the hospital from their lungs rapidly filling up with fluid.

"You saved this kid's life." I said calmly, without emotion.

"I know. We just got back the lab confirmation of Hanta." He handed me the test results.

I shook my head and smirked, "_You're good_. You managed to start treatment before the pulmonary phase and before the tests came back. _You're really good_. I've been hearing a lot about you in the grapevine. You're the Sherlock Holmes of medicine…or so they say."

He wiggled his eyebrows at me, "I have a position open for Mrs. Hudson. Only my Mrs. Hudson has to come with knee pads."

"Thanks, but I'll take a pass."

My job was to find the source of the outbreak. Greg had done most of the legwork for me, bringing in the pet rat, killing it and freezing it for me to dissect and test. I spent the afternoon interviewing the kid and then pulling the rat out of the bag. I did preliminary tests, but the antigen to Hantavirus had to be done by the CDC lab in Atlanta. I fed-exed tissue samples to Atlanta and then went back to Greg's office.

"Greg, I'm satisfied you're right. I need to get over to Donovan's and I need to call the Health Department."

He jumped up immediately, ready for some action, "I'll drive you."

"Thanks." As we left the hospital, I got the NJ Health Department on the phone and told them that I was closing down a pet store and needed their assistance. The boy had bought the rat a week ago, which meant that just about any rodent in the store could be infected. And it was possible that they could pass it to dogs and cats. I told the Health Department to send me their administrative veterinarian. I was going to need one.

We arrived and I handed Greg a 95 mask, gloves, gown and booties, "I know you don't like wearing this stuff, but if you're going to go in, you must. _I insist."_

He laughed at me, "Mags, first, I know when you get that look that I won't be getting away with anything. But second, do you think I'd miss out on the fun of walking into this store in all this getup? They're going to pee their pants."

I chuckled, again, it was so Greg-like. We dressed and entered the small store in a strip mall. Several people tried to leave, but I blocked their exit. Through my mask I told them in a muffled modulated tone, "I'm Dr. Malone of the CDC, we're investigating a possible outbreak of a virus. Should you feel ill in the next week, please contact me." I handed them my card, stepped aside and let them leave. It was doubtful that they had been in contact with the hantavirus, but there were no guarantees.

The clerks at the front of the store were all dead silent and staring at us as if we had just stepped out of a sci fi movie. "May I talk to your supervisor?" I asked.

A woman, maybe thirty at most, stepped forward, "I'm the supervisor on shift today."

"You're name?"

"Renni King."

"Renni, please lock the door, the store is now closed."

She didn't move. Her mouth was slightly open and her eyes fixed as if she were in a daze, "Are you really from the CDC?"

I took out another card and my federal identification, "Yes, and I have the authority granted by the Federal Government and the New Jersey Department of Health to shut this store down. So please lock the door and put a closed sign up."

Renni nodded for one of the workers to shut and lock the door.

I turned back to her, "How many work here?"

She looked up at the sky, as if she were counting. Done, she stared back at me, "Fourteen."

"Fourteen? Has anyone been off sick?"

"We have two who called in today."

"I need their names and addresses; can one of your employees get that for me?"

"Jeff, can you go into the office and get Justin and Katie's addresses?"

Jeff disappeared.

"You should call the owner of the store and ask them to come down."

She went off to call the owners while I directed Greg to start taking samples around the various pet cages. He gave me a snappy salute, ran and then slid across the floor in his booties like a teenager. I asked for the purchase documents for all the rodents in the store. The young staff scrambled to get the records as I went over to the rodent cage. They were kept in a class cage that even had a glass roof, a good sign that we could probably contain the disease to the pet store.

Greg was having a wonderful time scaring the teenage workers, grilling them about their health, acting like they had the Hantavirus. "Have you always had that mole?" He asked one worker. He turned to another, "Are you sure you don't feel congested? You sound a little raspy." Turning to me, he gave me a wink.

The teenage workers were all about to run hysterical into the parking lot and out into the world, never to be seen again, so I had to calm them all down. I pulled Greg into the storeroom.

Greg is almost a foot taller than me. I was so pissed at him; I was stabbing him with my finger, "If you don't behave…"

He gave me a stage stare, "What, you'll tell Cuddy? Mags, you're just a second rate doctor playing cop with a badge, get over it."

It sent me over the edge, "Gregory House, you won't have sex for the rest of your life if you don't start acting like the forty one year old you are."

He started laughing at me. I reached out and grabbed his ear and twisted, something I learned in Africa when kids misbehaved.

"_Jesus H. Christ! Maggie, stop it._" He was bending over, trying to knock my hand off of him.

I could finally see that he was tearing up, his face twisted in pain. I was so angry, I hadn't seen that I was really hurting him. I leaned in to say something when he flailed his arm to push me away and it sent me flying back. Off balanced on my three inch heels, I smacked my jaw and eye on the pallet behind me, then like a cartoon figure, I slipped down onto the floor.

Greg sauntered over to me, "Mags…" he looked down at me. He smiled, "Are you alive?"

I opened my eyes and looked at him, "You have a mean right backhand."

He shook his head, "You really have to get control over that temper."

I was lying prone on the ground looking up at Greg. We both burst out laughing at the same time. He reached an arm down and I went to grab it, but he playfully pulled his arm back and walked away. I rolled my eyes and slowly got up, making my way into the bathroom to check out the damage. The area around my right eye was a nice red and I could see it was starting to bruise just a little.

Greg opened the door to the bathroom while I was taking a pee. I guess he expected me to be standing idly next to the sink, because he was clearly surprised. But, being Greg, he didn't leave.

"Greg, I'm on the pot; do you mind?"

"Nothing I haven't seen you do a million times before."

"_We were living together then!"_

"I found something."

"What?" I finished and flushed the toilet. Standing up, my skirt hiding the best bits, I pulled up my pantyhose and washed my hands. Turning, I reached around him and grabbed my paper coat from the back of the door. We were within a foot of each other, I could smell him, that familiar, warm musk of his seeped into my senses. I was frozen and could hear that both of us were breathing deeper and deeper. I kept staring straight into his chest, because I knew if I looked up we'd connect and I couldn't let that happen. He finally moved to the side to let me exit.

As we walked out of the bathroom, he finally told me, "The Rodents come from Durango, Colorado."

"_Sin Nombre?_"

House grinned, "Si, Sin Nombre."

Sin Nombre was the Hantavirus strain that came out of the Navajo reservation cases in 1993 when several people ended up dead. It meant we had a bigger problem that we thought. The vet arrived and I explained our dilemma. The NJ health department made the decision to move all the larger domesticated animals to the labs and test them rather than euthanize them. I was glad. I never knew what a state or country was going to do when we found out that we had a zoonotic disease that needed to be contained. Some states killed the animals in mass, others quarantined and tested the animals, killing them only when lab results showed they were positive for the disease.

We took samples from several of the animals and then samples from each of the employees in the store. The Health Department sent nurses out to take samples of the employees who had the day off. Since Hanta isn't easily spread person to person, there was no need to isolate the employees or test their families.

Greg and I told the NJHD personnel that we would find and sample Justin and Katie. We discovered Justin was out drinking the night before and had taken a mental health day off to recover. Katie, however, had cleaned the rat cage earlier that week and showed symptoms of the virus. We had her taken into ICU right away.

As we drove back to the hospital I thought out loud, "If the tests are positive for Hanta Sin Nombre in the rats, we'll send someone back to do the epidemiology in Colorado. My work will be done here, with the exception of staying a few days to insure that there are no other cases in the area. The owner is going to give me the names and numbers of those people they know purchased mice and rats since this shipment came in. Apparently, there are a few snake owners that purchase mice to feed their snakes. And they have a couple of rat lovers, but don't think that sold any as pets this week. It's mainly the workers who have to handle the rodents and clean their cages that I'm worried about."

**There's an IT sailor, Josh, who has been reading my stories for almost two years. He has been begging me to write Maggie's Story because he admitted to me that he had a crush on Maggie whenever she shows up in my other stories. He told us, on the Fox Forum, that he is going to be deployed to the gulf in September. So, as a going away present, I wrote him the story. And, since he had a crush on her, I slipped him into the story and into Maggie's bed. He's a great guy and happily married. That's why there's the little cameo and sex scene involving Josh. I'm always in awe of the men and women who serve our country and was happy that I could say thank you to one of them.**


	31. Chapter 16 Part III OUt of Africa

**Chapter 16 Part III**

**Out of Africa Into the Fire**

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We got back to the hospital fairly late, I had just enough time to get to the hotel and change for the evening. I sat down and called Josh, leaving him a message when he didn't answer, letting him know I'd call him the next night. Jim was on time, looking quite handsome in an electric blue sweater and brown slacks. There was no mistaking Jim for anything but a really nice guy.

"So, where are we going?"

He turned to me as we drove through the streets, "There's only one really good Italian restaurant in Princeton, _Mezza Luna._ So I made reservations for 7:30pm. I figured we could have drinks at the bar."

"Sounds great." I responded. I was a little nervous, Jim Wilson was actually an age appropriate, handsome doctor that might just make a really good catch. I was starting to warm up to the idea.

"How long have you known House?"

I giggled, "Oh, I met him when I was 21 and he was a Resident in Nephrology at Temple. I was his landlord. Although, he bribed me into renting him the room. He drove me half way to my brother's bar and then threatened to dump me on the side of the street if I didn't rent to him ."

Jim chortled, "Sounds like him." He hesitated, "I got the impression that you two were a couple back then. So, when he said he lived with you, he was your roommate, not your boyfriend."

I looked forward, feeling wistful about those days, "No, we were a couple. It just kinda happened. We broke up in less than a year. But, I hope we've remained friends. You can never tell with Greg, this might just be a game for him."

"Well, he speaks of you fondly. I mean, at least when he talks about you, the words _moron, idiot, _and _bitch_ aren't used very frequently. He does say that you have a wicked temper."

I laughed out loud, "Consider the source."

It was Jim's turn to laugh, "I guess you have a point. He certainly knows how to stir the pot."

"Jim? You and House don't really make sense. As friends, I mean. At least, superficially. I mean, you're obviously a really nice guy. Why do you hang with him?"

He shrugged, "First it was his brilliance. I had to consult with him on some cases and I was impressed with his leaps in logic, his faith in his abilities. Then he started yanking my chain about being nice. We went out for drinks and I thought he was the funniest guy I had ever met, meanest too. But there's something refreshing about his take-no-prisoners attitude."

I nodded, I knew what Jim was talking about. Greg could cut through crap faster than anyone I knew. He called a spade a spade and he had no problem telling you if were full of it. "He's sadly honest when he shouldn't be and yet the man can lie and manipulate better than anyone I know." I realized that we had just spent most of our time together talking about my ex-boyfriend, "I'm sorry, I hate talking about Greg when there's so much I don't know about you. Where did you go to med school?"

"McGill University."

"Canada?"

He nodded, "I wanted to get away from my family and try growing up…didn't work."

I had to chuckle, he was so self-effacing, it was sweet. We pulled up in front of a restaurant, "Do you want me to let you out while I find a parking spot? I see you're wearing heels."

I was wearing three inch heels again and my feet were not feeling their best. "That would be great, thanks for thinking of me. I think I'll step just inside the door since it's so cold outside." If it had been Greg, he would have found the parking spot furthest from the restaurant and made me march –berating me for wearing stupid high-heel shoes.

I went inside and took off my coat, letting the maître d' hang it up. I was wearing a low-cut, brown wrap-dress with brown high heels. I noticed when I put on my brown eyeliner that the brown made my eyes look bluer. I looked down and was a little embarrassed, I hadn't realized just how much of my breasts the dress showed off. I was standing waiting for the door to open; when it did, my smile dropped. In walked Greg with an absolutely knock dead gorgeous brunette. I felt like throwing up. _This is Stacy? _ I went lightheaded.

Greg's eyes flew open in mock surprise "Maggie! What a shock, you're eating here?"

My mouth went dry and I nodded, "Yes."

"Where's Wilson?"

"Parking the car."

He put his arm around his girlfriend and extended his palm out, "Stacy, this is Maggie Malone."

I saw her face go as white as I know mine was.

_So much for Stacy wanting to meet me._

The door opened and Wilson walked in, his eyes going wide and mouth dropping open. His voice was angry, "House! What are you doing here?"

"We decided that Italian sounded good tonight."

Stacy turned to Greg, jaw clenched, "_You decided_."

Greg shrugged his shoulders.

The maitre d came up to the desk and looked at Jim, "Do you have a reservation?"

"Dr. Wilson."

"Ah yes, table for four," the man grabbed menus for us.

Jim shook his head, "I made it for _two_."

"Yes, but that's been crossed out and we have it for four." He glanced at Greg and Stacy, "Aren't they with you?"

Jim looked defeated; he obviously didn't want to turn Stacy and Greg out into the night. The restaurant was crowded and we could see that there was a waiting list. "Yes, they're with us." He glanced over at me for approval and I gave him a smile while shrugging my shoulders to show that I understood.

We went to the table and sat down. I was praying to God that someone else would start the conversation. For once I didn't want to open my mouth. I figured that Stacy, as a lawyer, had to be more articulate than me. One thing I wondered was how did Stacy know about me?

I read the menu and snuck a peak at Stacy who was sneaking a peak at my cleavage. A flash of disapproval went through her face. I tried to position the menu to hide my cleavage. I was terribly embarrassed and feeling inferior for the first time in my life. _How can this woman make me feel so inferior, I just met her?_ _Maybe it's because she's managed to make a relationship work with Greg where I failed miserably._

Jim took a drink of water and smiled at me, "So, I heard you shut down the pet store and ordered in the Health Department."

I nodded and swallowed hard, but my voice still squeaked, "Just until we can get it cleaned up."

Everyone looked at me when my voice cracked. I saw Greg snicker, making me feel even more inferior. I decided I needed a drink. The waitress came back to the table to get the drinks order and I went for Tequila, ordering a Margarita.

Jim didn't stop, "Are you working out of Atlanta?"

"No, I'm heading up the AMRIID search for an Ebola vaccine, which will hopefully lead us to vaccines for Marburg and Lhassa."

Jim seemed genuinely interested in what I was saying, but I could see Greg was bored, we weren't playing his game. "Did you like Africa?"

"Yes, it was always an adventure. You have to think on your toes and watch your ass. It's very exciting."

The drinks arrived and I started chugging like a tourist lost in the desert. We ordered food, I ordered another drink with my meal, and then the table settled into that lull before the food is served, the time when you have to make conversation. I looked up and saw Stacy about ready to begin the volley


	32. Chapter 17 Part I Bared Teeth

**Maggie's Story**

**Chapter 17**

**Bared Teeth**

House watched everyone position themselves. There was Wilson, the hapless friend on his first date with Maggie. There was the bewildered Maggie, surprisingly off-balanced by Stacy's presence, obviously nervous, her voice cracking every other sentence. And then there was Stacy. The ever-smiling, currently-coiling Stacy, reading to spring. He knew that Stacy had always felt slightly intimidated by Maggie since Maggie had been the first woman he lived with and an accomplished doctor. House loved Stacy, but he always liked to stir things up, keep her on her toes. And, like all good lawyers, he knew that, in her mind, the best defense was a good offense. House wondered if he should run interference, but decided not to. It appeared that Maggie had chosen alcohol as her weapon of defense. He wondered if it would dampen her tongue or loosen it if Stacy took first blood.

"Well, Maggie, how do you like Princeton? Have you ever been here before?" Stacy asked.

"No, this is my first time and I haven't really seen much. But we drove by the campus today and it's beautiful."

Stacy nodded in acknowledgment, "Yes, I don't know which campus is prettier, Princeton or Harvard." The glass in her hand found her lips as she waited for Maggie's reply.

House watched as Maggie took the bait.

"Did you go to Harvard?" Maggie asked.

Stacy nodded and with a somewhat overfriendly voice, added, "Law review, Summa Cum Laude, you know…typical overachiever. Where did you go to med school?"

"Temple." Maggie responded politely.

Stacy looked at House as innocently as she could, "Temple? I don't know much about it. Is it good? I know Greg went to Hopkins. Of course, Harvard and Michigan are high on the list of med schools,too. Temple? Oh well, I seem to only remember the top med schools."

House almost snorted out loud, knowing that Stacy was coming close to the belt-line. "Temple is a great med school and Maggie did well there. Didn't you Mags?"

Maggie took a drink and then nodded, giving Wilson a brief glance. Wilson took no action to hide his embarrassment. His eyes were cast down and he was shaking his head ever so slightly.

House chastised her, "Oh don't be shy Maggie, didn't you turn down the Doyle Fellowship to join the CDC?"

Wilson and Stacy both looked at Maggie with shock.

Maggie looked up, shrugged and nodded.

Wilson narrowed his brow and eyes in disbelief, "To go to the CDC?"

"I've always been drawn to the CDC and public health epidemiology. I knew what I wanted and it wasn't going to be in the private sector."

House swirled the single ice cube in his whiskey, "Maggie is dogged in her beliefs and her desires. If she truly wants something, she makes it happen."

Maggie's voice interrupted House, "So Stacy, how did you and Greg meet?"

Stacy started to giggle, placing her hand overtly on House's and smiling up into his eyes, "It was in a strip joint. We exchanged some words, but nothing exciting. But the next day we found ourselves against each other in a paintball tournament, doctors against lawyers. I moved in with him four days later."

Maggie's jaw dropped, "Four days later? And you're still together?"

Stacy now knew Maggie's Achilles heel, "Well, sometimes it just clicks and you just know. We were immediately attracted to each other I guess."

Maggie had studied Stacy and didn't think that Stacy was as comfortable with their relationship as she liked everyone to believe or she wouldn't have been so unhappy about meeting Maggie. And there wouldn't have been this chill in the air. But then, maybe Stacy was always worried about the relationship, whether she had a reason to be or not. Some women were like that.

Maggie's eyes flashed blue, "So, when are you two going to get married?"

House shifted in his chair, indicating that this was a bone of contention. Maggie thought back, Stacy and House's relationship was fairly new when Maggie met House in D.C., but now, it was three years later. Stacy had probably been hinting to House that she wanted more from him.

Stacy cleared her throat and looked at Greg, "Well, we haven't decided whether or not we want to get married. We're discussing it." The sharp look she gave House said it all. She wanted to be married and he was balking, again.

Maggie was feeling some of the alcohol and was happy to see that the waitress was bringing her another Margarita. "Well, good luck with that." There was a tone in her voice. Wilson and Stacy weren't quite sure if she was being sarcastic, but House knew she was.

Stacy took a drink of her gin and tonic, alcohol making it a little easier to attack. She went for the jugular, "I found a scrapbook. I believe you gave it to Greg. It's such a nice sentiment, the photos are wonderful, especially since he claims he lost his box of old photos. However, I'm curious, why did you get such a big scrapbook? Three-quarters of it is empty."

Maggie stopped in her tracks and stared at Stacy. Her eyes turned even bluer. Stacy let a glint of satisfaction slip over her mouth. The scrap book clearly said that Maggie was leaving the rest blank to add their future memories to it. Maggie's eyes started to tear up. House knew then that Stacy had won. She drew first blood and hit the jackpot, she found Maggie's jugular. The game suddenly stopped being fun. House hadn't realized how sensitive Maggie was about the past.

Maggie tried to swallow back the tears. "Ugh, I have something in my eye."

House leaned forward with his handkerchief in his hand, "Here Mags, let me help you get it." He put his hand under her chin and stared gently into her eyes to let her know he was sorry. This had been a very bad idea. He pretended to dab the foreign substance, all the time wanting to kiss and hold her. He was beginning to feel sick inside. He was divided between the two women at the table. Playing this game hadn't been as fun as he thought it would be. Instead, it just illuminated the fact that he wasn't over Maggie. He was sitting between two women that he loved very much and for very different reasons. He was screwed.

He pulled back and looked over at Stacy, seeing that she wasn't happy that he chose to rescue Maggie. He was going to pay in some subtle way or, looking at Stacy, it might not be too subtle. Wilson wasn't happy either with the events. House had three people pissed at him, nothing unusual, except these were three people he really cared about.

Maggie looked down for a few seconds and then up at Stacy, "Stacy, I have to say, when I heard that Greg had found someone he loved and who made him happy, I was grateful. He and I constantly fought when we were together and he deserves better. I was a poor match. Obviously, you're the right person for the job. I'd like to toast to Stacy," they all raised their glasses, "A wonderful person for bringing love and joy into Greg's life."

Everyone tried not to look stunned, but they couldn't believe the generosity of Maggie. She had even sounded genuine, which made the words a tougher pill for Stacy and House to swallow. Jim just appreciated Maggie even more. There were smiles and everyone's posture eased.

During dinner, Stacy made an effort to be nice to Maggie and Maggie returned it. Maggie had decided that she was fighting a losing battle on all fronts and she wasn't even sure it was a battle she wanted to win. Stacy was polished, even tempered, beautiful, intelligent and charming. Maggie felt like the freckled faced Dennis the Menace in comparison to Stacy's Audrey Hepburn.

But, as the alcohol flowed, there were funny war stories being shared around the table and everyone began to have a good time. By the end of the evening there was a definite détente between the parties and Maggie could see why Stacy was good for House. They complimented each other. Jim drove Maggie back to the hotel. It was clear to Jim that Maggie still had feelings for House and he suspected that House had feelings for her. Jim knew it would be futile to try dating Maggie. First, her heart wasn't in it and, second, House would make his life miserable.

Maggie sensed that Wilson had pulled back and that the subtle flirting had turned into camaraderie. He walked Maggie into the lobby. They sat down on the sofa and chair and talked for fifteen minutes about Wilson's family and his work as an oncologist.

Wilson leaned forward, "Well, I'll let you get some sleep, it sounds like you've had a long day."

"It has…and I'm afraid I had too much to drink tonight." They both stood up.

He gave her a polite kiss on the cheek. Maggie started to walk off, but Wilson grabbed her wrist. She turned and looked up, questioningly.

"Just for the record, I don't know if he made the right choice. You're a formidable woman Maggie and if House hadn't been a factor in this equation, I'd ask you out again. Please don't get me wrong, Stacy is wonderful and I like her, but something tells me you're a better fit."

She said nothing, but gave him a sad smile and a nod of the head. Turning to the elevator, Maggie wanted to get up to her room before she started to cry. When she got into her pajamas, she called Josh, but he didn't pick up. She knew he was going to be really busy with the new installation, but it was eleven o'clock and she had wanted to hear his voice. After saying her prayers, she rolled over and went to sleep.

As Wilson left the hotel, he looked across the parking lot and saw a large car, lights off, making its way to the exit, it looked suspiciously like House's old boat of a car.


	33. Chapter 17 Part II Bared Teeth

**Chapter 17 **

**Part II **

**Bared Teeth**

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The rats proved to harbor the virus. They were all euthanized. There was minimal viral shedding in the adjacent cages, but to be safe, the rats, deer mice and other rodents, including the guinea pigs were all killed. However, it was decided that they didn't have to kill the cats, dogs or snakes.

Within three days, Maggie was convinced that it was an isolated outbreak. Working with one of House's fellows, Curtis Williams, they treated the two patients until their viral loads were down. After three more days, the patients were both discharged. Maggie notified Cuddy that she was ready to return to Maryland and would be leaving the next day.

Jim and Maggie had lunch almost every day, enjoying each other immensely. In another universe, they might have been a couple. But in this universe, they made really good friends.

"So, I haven't seen much of Greg. He occasionally stops in to bark at his fellow, but then I get a nod and he's gone. Do you know what's going on?"

Jim winced, "I don't know if I'm supposed to tell." He thought about it, "Stacy made a few threats the other night when they got home from dinner. If she finds out that he's spending any time with you, she threatened to leave. Luckily, he's received a patient and it took his mind off of harassing you. It's a good thing because she's been making several "surprise" visits to the hospital over the last few days."

"Well, I'm off tomorrow. I was going to ask them to dinner tonight to say goodbye, but I guess I'll let that thought go. How would you like to eat out with me?"

He grimaced, "Maggie, I wish I had known; I've got a date and tickets to a play."

Maggie held up a hand, "It's okay Jim, I hope you have a good time." She smiled and heaved a heavy sigh, "Well, I'm going to finish up my work and get out of here. I'd like to see a little of Princeton before I leave."

Wilson put his hand out and touched hers, "Maggie, don't be a stranger."

She gave him a peck on his cheek, "Bye, Jim. Keep in touch, you have my email."

Maggie finished up the paperwork and, as she left the hospital, stopped by House's office but he wasn't there. She debated about leaving a note, but didn't want Stacy to find it, so she just kept going. The Princeton campus was large and lovely, but it was cold out so Maggie found the student union building and grabbed a cup of hot chocolate. She sat and contemplated the last few days.

_He's happy; she's great. I can't do this anymore. I never cry except when he comes back into my life. Letting go each time is too hard, too much. I'm torn apart again. I just can't do this again. _

She got up and decided to go back to the hotel, order room service and enjoy some television. She was in her long flannel pinstriped sleep pants and a tank top. One bread pudding and another hot chocolate later, Maggie heard a knock on her door. She got up and looked through the eyepiece. _Oh,no._

"Greg, what do you want?"

House narrowed his eyes, "You were going to leave without saying goodbye?"

Maggie sighed and opened the door, "Look, I didn't want Stacy to be upset. I thought it best if I did my job and left."

He was standing in a corduroy jacket, looking flustered, "Can I come in?"

She winced, "No, if you come in, things will happen…just a sec." She grabbed a sweater and her slippers, then joined him in the hall, arms crossed. "Come on, let's walk around downstairs." They took the elevator down. "Where's Stacy?"

"Washington D.C. at some administration hearing tomorrow. I diagnosed my patient and went to look for you, but they told me you had left."

"I stopped by your office, but you weren't there."

As they got off on the bottom floor they saw a busy lobby. House grabbed her wrist, "Come on, let's go this way." He started walking down the halls trying doors and looking inside. "Ah here!" He opened the door to a massive ballroom.

"Greg, what are we doing in here? Are we allowed in here?"

"Screw that. There's a piano. Come on." He dragged her over to the piano, sat down and started playing, _l Don't Want to Talk About It. _

Greg started bumping her playfully and singing:

_I can tell by your eyes  
That you've probably been cryin' forever,  
And the stars in the sky don't mean nothin' to you  
They're a mirror._

Maggie listened and then as he looked up asked, "What are you really doing here Greg?"

He said nothing, but kept singing to her:_  
I don't want to talk about it  
How you broke my heart.  
If I stay here just a little bit longer,  
If I stay here, won't you listen to my heart?_

Maggie rolled her eyes at him. "Greg, come on, let's call it a night."

If I stand all alone  
Will the shadow hide the color of my heart  
Blue for the tears, black for the night's fears

And the stars in the sky don't mean nothin' to you  
They're a mirror

He stopped playing, then looked down into her eyes, "I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for the other night." He stopped and took a deep breath, his voice wavering, "I went home and looked at the scrap book and all those empty pages for the memories ahead and…" He swallowed hard, "I wish I had fought harder for you. I wish that we had both tried harder. It's too late now, I really do love Stacy, but I know now that I'll always love you, Mags. You're my only regret."

Maggie teared up, "Damn it, Greg. I never cry except when I'm around you." She wiped her tears, "I think you've found what you were looking for in Stacy." She paused and smiled through her tears, "You know that when I go to Mass, I always light a candle for you, hoping you're safe and happy. I'll always want that for you, Greg, always. And it looks like you have it. You're very lucky, Greg. Hold on to this, even if you have to marry Stacy, hold on to it."

"I know, and I will. It's just that I keep wondering what those pages would be filled with if I had convinced you to come with me."

"You would have had to marry me."

He chuckled and shook his head, "Yeah."

"Are you going to ask Stacy? She wants you to."

He sighed and shook his head in dismay, "I know. I've been getting hints for the last month. I figure that maybe around her birthday next August, I might ask her."

It hurt that he could ask Stacy, but he wouldn't ask her. But she knew that they were both older and in different places in their life. She was just in the right place at the wrong time. "Good. You need to marry her, make her happy."

There was an awkward silence.

"I learned that lesson a little late in life."

Maggie cracked up laughing. "I guess."

The room grew still again. Maggie stood up.

"I'm going to go get some sleep. Thanks for coming down and saying goodbye."

"Mags, you know how you always say you want me to be happy?"

"Yeah?"

He exhaled and had a hard time looking at her, "When I looked into your eyes at the restaurant and realized I couldn't hold you or make your hurt go away, I knew what you meant. I want you to be happy and safe, warm and loved."

She teared up and laughed, "Thanks, Greg." She reached down and gave him a kiss on the forehead, then turned.

He grabbed her wrist, "Mags?"

She turned, "What, Greg?"

He couldn't get it out, he just looked desperate, as if he knew this would be the last time he saw her.

She touched his cheek and then looked down at his hand wrapped tightly around her wrist, she said with a firm voice, "Greg, you really have to _let go_."

He knew what she meant. His hand loosened and she gently pulled it out of his hand. As she walked across the endless ballroom he played and sang:

_Heart and soul, I fell in love with you  
Heart and soul, the way a fool would do,  
Madly  
Because you held me tight  
And stole a kiss in the night_

_Oh! but your lips were thrilling, much too thrilling  
Never before were mine so strangely willing_

Maggie hated him for playing that; he knew what effect it would have on her. She pushed through the doors and could still hear him playing and singing as she ran down the hall to the elevator.

_But now I see, what one embrace can do  
Look at me, it's got me loving you  
madly  
That little kiss you stole  
Held all my heart and soul_

People were looking at the woman sobbing in the pinstriped pajamas. Maggie reaffirmed the fact that she could no longer do this. No more hellos, no more goodbyes. It hurt way too much.

Maggie was relieved to be back in Maryland. She had emailed and left a phone message for Josh telling him the flight she would be on. When he took her to the airport, he offered to pick her up, but he wasn't there. It was Sunday, so Maggie took a shuttle home, unpacked and collapsed on the couch.

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Monday she drove in and as she walked towards the building, she saw Josh's car drive up, with a dark blonde woman behind the wheel. Maggie's heart stopped as she watched Josh reach over kiss the woman and then get out. He spotted Maggie and blushed, walking straight into the building without saying hello. Maggie didn't want to go inside. She had a feeling she was in for another major disappointment.

When she signed in and went through security, she saw he was waiting for her in front of the elevators. She walked over and smiled, "Hi Josh. Did you want to tell me something?"

"Maggie." Looking even more upset than she felt, he took a deep breath and looked around to see if they were alone, "My wife, my ex-wife, showed up last week, eight months pregnant. She didn't tell me because she wanted the divorce to go through. But, I guess she's been having second thoughts. I told her that I wanted a paternity test, but that until the results came back, she could live with me and we'd give it a try for the sake of the baby."

Maggie felt heavy, like all her limbs and body could sink right into the floor. _How can I argue with him? He's doing the decent thing; taking responsibility for what is probably is his child. Greg is doing the decent thing by asking Stacy to marry him. Wilson is doing the decent thing by not flirting with his friend's ex-girlfriend. They're all doing the decent thing, just without me._

Maggie was all cried out, so she simply nodded and got into the next elevator.

As the doors closed he yelled at her, "Maggie, you're really beautiful. I'm sorry, I'm _so_ sorry."

When the doors closed Maggie chuckled. Her timing sucked.

That afternoon, after licking her wounds, Maggie called Atlanta and informed them that she needed a meeting with her supervisors. She needed it _now_. Two days later she was in Altanta.

"I need to be anywhere, but here in the USA. I'm not the person for this job. Being in a biolab is a waste of what I do best."

Daniel Levine looked at her like she was nuts, "You just got here, Maggie!"

"Daniel, either put me back in the field or I'll quit."

Daniel looked over at Maggie's direct supervisor of epidemiology, Peter Nusburg. Peter raised his eyebrows.

"Peter, I need this. I just need to be anywhere but here."

"You did a phenomenal job in Princeton. Everyone said you managed to keep Greg House in check. That's next to impossible. We could pull you out of the lab and put you in the field here in the States, dealing with various outbreaks. Let's see, it's December, next month when 2001 starts we can look around and possibly move you in the spring."

Maggie shook her head slowly, "Maybe in another year I can come back to the States, but right now, I need to be someplace else. I know, it's December and you don't like moving people at the end of the year. But in two weeks when we move into the new year, I need to be somewhere else."

The men were both stunned, but neither of them wanted to lose Maggie. She was a shining star in the CDC and they didn't want to be the idiots who lost her to the private sector.

"Okay Maggie, let us have a minute, okay?"

She waited outside in the lobby while they talked about it. Within five minutes, Daniel came to the door and motioned for Maggie to come into the office. She stood up, straightened her skirt and went inside.

Peter motioned for her to take a seat, "Maggie, we have a need for an epidemiologist in Ethiopia. We need someone to study an outbreak of Anthrax."

Maggie wrinkled her nose, "Anthrax? But, Anthrax is so back burner right now. Can't you find me a dengue fever outbreak or a Lhasa epidemic?"

They laughed. Peter leaned forward, "Anthrax is just as lethal as Ebola. We have no one on Anthrax right now and the military is worried about it becoming a biological weapon. We need to study it in the wild to see how contaminating animals spread the disease in the population."

Daniel added, "Besides, beggars can't be choosers."

"Well, I can if I'm a well qualified doctor who gets offers in the private sector all the time. But, I'll take the assignment. However, I expect a reassignment in a year, okay?"

Peter liked Maggie, she knew her worth and she was also practical, "Okay Maggie, we'll look around for something in a year, deal?"

She nodded.


	34. Chapter 17 Part III Bared Teeth

**Chapter 17**

**Part III**

**Bared Teeth**

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Ethiopia is one of the most populous and poorest nations in Africa. Mountainous in the western areas, desert on the east, its major export is coffee and its economy is highly dependent on agriculture. Most of the diseases are the result of poor sanitation. It's a landlocked country and in December, 2000 Ethiopia had ended its war with its neighbor Eritrea.

Maggie was happy that the war was over since she would be going close to the border between the two countries where minor skirmishes were still going on. However, her happiness over the end of the war was countered by her displeasure over the fact that she was going to Afar, the desert.

Stepping out of the puddle jumper and helping the pilot unload her luggage, Maggie smiled as she saw the jeep pull up and Lee Chin jump out, waving and smiling. Maggie, looked around, she had only been to Ethiopia once before and had prayed she'd never have to come again. It was hot, at least 120°F hot.

There are only two hospitals in the region available to the Afar, the National Hospital and the Dubti Hospital. Maggie knew that the Afar people were usually found to be malnourished. Their diets consisted mainly of bread and milk. There was no natural source of water for the Afar people. Water had to be tanked in and as a result it is relatively expensive. Many of the Afar people were anemic and had malaria, because of their inadequate diets.

The Afar nomads have a very unique culture. Their daily life consists of tending to livestock including goats, camels, and a few cattle located in this region. The Afar people are very dependent on the livestock for the economy. Religion is also a part of the Afar way of life. Although Ethiopia considers itself a Christian country, the majority in Afar were Muslim.

"You'd think I could get the mountains where it's a little cooler, but no, I get one of the hottest parts of Africa." Maggie moaned as she grabbed her backpack and duffle bag as Chin picked up the cases with her equipment.

Lee Chin laughed, "Hey, you're lucky the WHO beat you out here; we set up two sleeping trailers with air conditioning."

Maggie clapped her hands together, "I love you Lee. You and the WHO are my heroes."

He laughed, pushing his glasses up to the bridge of his nose. "You, Maggie, are the celebrity. We're all wondering what you did that caused the CDC to send you to study Anthrax in Ethiopia?"

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with studying Anthrax in Ethiopia…right?"

He laughed, "You're the only senior epidemiologist in town. No one on this project has half your experience. So, why are you being punished?"

"I asked to come down."

"_To study Anthrax? Why_? You have to tell me, why has the great Maggie Malone chosen this God Forsaken country to study a disease that isn't even on the front page?"

"The CDC seems to think Anthrax could be used as a biological weapon, so we need to study it."

Chin, who was the same height as Maggie and educated at Oxford, said in his British accent, "Maggie, it's January, 2001. I find it absurd to think anyone's going to use Anthrax as a weapon in the near future. You should be working the AIDS crisis here or on the new TB strain. But, _Anthrax?_"

She smiled at him. Maggie liked Chin, he was bright and more British than his cohort, Nigel Koller, even though Chin was born in Hong Kong and Nigel in Sussex. Nigel was a little on the wild side, a streak of orneriness that you didn't see in the British very often. He was waiting at the camp for them with three Martinis. Maggie laughed when she saw Nigel holding up two Martini glasses, complete with olives.

The camp was typical for investigating in the field except, for some reason, the WHO had provided air conditioned trailers and a generator. Normally, the staff slept in large tents. The trailers were kept at a cool 80°F, thirty degrees cooler than outside. It was much more comfortable sleeping in the trailers than in a tent. Maggie felt as if she was in the lap of luxury. There was even a porta-potty, which, along with the bathrooms in the trailers, gave the workers four toilets, another sign of luxury.

Maggie, feeling dusty and thirsty from the long ride smiled, "Nigel, did I ever tell you that if you weren't married, I'd be madly in love with you?"

"Mags, dear—"he leaned down and kissed both of her cheeks, "you just love my Martinis."

"Maggie, I'm not married." Chin quipped.

But Maggie knew that Chin had a live-in girlfriend in London."I'm telling Mae-ling."

Chin put a hand over his chest in mock horror. He turned to Nigel, "Maggie won't tell me why she has been banished to the back waters of Ethiopia to study Anthrax of all things."

Nigel looked Maggie up and down and narrowed his eyes, "A man. She's running from a man."

Maggie didn't mean to react, but she gave a little gasp, causing both men to laugh.

Nigel put an arm around her and took her inside the trailer out of the mid-day sun. The trailers each had two desks, table and chairs and built in cabinets. Each person got their own cabinet for unpacking their clothes and storing their toiletries. There were two bedrooms with two cots in each. There were seven workers, so there was no need to "hot bunk" or, in other words, take shifts sleeping in the beds. Maggie was given her own room, which surprised her.

"You're the senior epidemiologist Maggie; we believe in a chain of command. You'll be taking over from me. I moved in with Chin."

"Nigel, I didn't mean for you to move out of your room."

He laughed, "Maggie, you know this is the Hilton compared to the other sites. I'm just happy I have a cot in the a/c."

They all toasted and sat down to drink their martinis while the workers brought in Maggie's belongings and unloaded the medical equipment she had brought with her.

"So, this man you're running from, who is he?" Nigel asked.

Maggie thought about whether she wanted them to know, but she figured it really didn't matter here in Ethiopia. "His name is Greg House, we lived together eleven years ago. I just never got over him. He thinks he can call me up and I'll come running. He's right. I figured this way, if he calls me up, I can't go running. Plus, I was in the lab for one week and I was already getting bored."

Nigel nodded, "I couldn't agree with you more. I don't mind doing the lab work in the field, but if it's all lab work, it's dreary. Gregory House…this isn't the famous Gregory House? The one who told the Dean of Mass General that he was a moron and then proceeded to steal his patient?"

Maggie smiled fondly at the thought, "Yes, that would be him."

Chin chuckled, "Why do all the beautiful women fall for the bad boys?"

Maggie grinned and shrugged her shoulders. "You know, it's really good to see you two. After we handled that outbreak of Dengue Fever, I kept looking out for you. What happened?"

"Hoof and Mouth…we were yanked back to England to deal with the outbreak."

"Oh, how did that go?"

For the next hour they talked about the outbreak and how poorly the British government had handled it. Maggie loved hearing them talk, they were so cynical and witty. She laughed and drank another Martini before being served goat stew, not her favorite, but she was hungry. By the end of her first day in camp, Maggie felt fat and sassy and just a little bit tipsy.

Nigel and Chin were right, the outbreak of Anthrax had died down and now they were tediously conducting vector sampling and trying to locate patient zero. It was work well below Maggie's abilities and standing in the CDC, which only brought to light that she had probably taken a step back in her career by agreeing to become the Anthrax Goddess of the CDC, but she had chosen her bed and she was going to lie in it.

The purpose of the mission was to verify reports of occurrence of human anthrax associated with high mortality in the region since the beginning of the previous year. The team was composed of professionals from the Ministry of Agriculture, the National Animal Health Research Centre, Sebata, Ministry of Health, WHO, FAO, CDC and counterparts from the Afar Regional State.

The investigation confirmed that _animal anthrax_ occurs in sporadic form throughout Ethiopia including Afar, mainly during the dry seasons. Maggie and Nigel travelled to several areas outside of Afar, and determined that human anthrax occurs in some parts of Ethiopia _following cases of animal anthrax_, mostly as a consequence of practices of people outside of Afar, that enhance exposure to infection. Maggie established that in the region outside of Afar, human anthrax occurred whenever there was animal disease, typically as some of the families slaughtered and consumed meat from sick animals.

Strangely, in the case of Afar, itself, the mission could not document any past history of _human_ anthrax, there was no documentation despite the constant monitoring by all the health officials involved. Chin and Maggie discovered that the natives had knowledge and practices that significantly minimised human exposure to infection. The Afar were very knowledgeable in recognizing animal anthrax (ladore) against which they use traditional remedies.

Although Maggie worked on the Anthrax problem, she was given an ancillary assignment of monitoring and investigating the rampant outbreaks of dysentery, tuberculosis, and measles. More recently the CDC asked her to investigate an outbreak of Meningococcal disease throughout Ethiopia. There were 3521 cases including 197 deaths through March 24, 2001 from a widespread area across the country. Maggie and other healthcare workers help to administer 2.75 million doses of vaccine supplied from ICG stocks through the ICG partners: International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies (IFRC), MSF, UNICEF and WHO.

It came as a surprise when the CDC contacted Maggie and informed her that a jeep was being sent to take her to Mogadishu in Somalia to assist in an epidemic outbreak of Meningococcal disease which had effected Mohammed Barre. Barre was the leader of one of the heavily armed clans that prevented a central government from being established in Somalia. Making him an ally of the west could help to bring some stability to the region.

When Maggie and the two other health workers arrived in Mgadishu, they were escorted by the tallest, solid ebony colored men she had ever seen. They took her into a building that appeared to have once been a motel for tourists, now vacant as a result of the warring clans. Upstairs she found a man, prostrate and obviously very ill from both the smell in the room and the sheen of perspiration and the obvious exhaustion. Barre couldn't turn his neck, only his shoulders, to look at Maggie as she approached the bed. His fever was high and his eyes glassy. Maggie was worried, not for Barre, but for her and the other health workers. Barre was in bad shape, if they lost him, there was no telling what his supporters would do to the American doctor and her team. They'd probably blame her for his death.

"Mr. Barre, I'm Dr. Malone from the CDC. It appears that you have an advanced case of Meningitis. I'm going to start an IV of antibiotics and saline to rehydrate you."

He stared at her with his deep brown eyes. He seemed to be weighing whether or not she was worthy of treating him. He said nothing, but nodded. Maggie and her assistants hooked up the IV and began the treatment. She made the big, strapping bodyguards move Barre to another room briefly while they stripped the bed. Three women came in and washed the bedding in pails of steaming hot water and detergent. Maggie instructed the women to clean the room with an antiseptic that Maggie had brought with her. In the meantime, Barre slept on another bed, on top of a clean sheet Maggie had brought with her.

Surprisingly, Maggie was treated with kindness and respect by everyone around her. They could see she was trying her best to save their leader. Food was brought and the team went down to the lobby to eat. At ten that night, Maggie fell asleep in a chair down in little niche off of the lobby, her feet up on an ottoman. She was awakened by one of the bodyguards who nudged her with the barrel of his gun.

In his thick Somalian accent he spoke, "He's awake. He wants to see you."

Maggie climbed the stairs to the second floor and walked down the wallpapered hallway to the first door. She looked in, there was one light on overhead casting an eerie glow over everything. But, she could see that Barre was awake and, he was turning his neck to watch her, a good sign.

"Mr. Barre?"

He motioned for her to come close and with a barely audible voice asked, "Dr. Malone, is it okay for me to have a drink of water and some food?"

She smiled, "Yes, if you think you can keep it down, by all means, have some food."

Maggie took his temperature while his clan brought him a bowl of rice soup. His fever was down considerably and Maggie was sure that he would be recovered in a few days. The following day, Maggie announced that he would survive, but would need several weeks of rest before he would feel completely well. As a result of his appreciation for the health care he received from Maggie and the WHO, Barre allowed the CDC in to administer vaccines and to obtain cooperation from other clan leaders to allow their followers to be vaccinated too for Meningitis. Maggie drove back to the camp in Afar, wishing that they would move the camp to a cooler location.

Three weeks later, while returning from a field trip to a village forty miles away, Maggie came down with fever, chills, headache, malaise, achy joints, nausea, and fatigue. Within ten hours she started coughing and having breathing difficulties. At first it was thought she had influenza, which had reached epidemic proportions in the region. But when she coughed up bloody sputum, Nigel and Chin spun into a frenzy to discover what she had. They had managed to calm her cough so that she could sleep. Before she went to sleep, Nigel and Chin took samples of Maggie's blood and sputum and ran them through tests and under a microscope. Nigel was sitting at the table when the results were handed to him.

Nigel jumped up, screaming, "Bloody hell!"


	35. Chapter 17 Part IV Bared Teeth

**Maggie's Story**

**Chapter 17 Part IV**

**Bared Teeth**

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Daniel Levine was deep asleep when there seemed to be a ringing in a tunnel. He slowly realized that it was his phone. Turning on the light, he grabbed the receiver and determined at the same time that the clock said 2:00 am.

Daniel wasn't sure who the British man on the other end of the phone was, the reception wasn't that good, "...Ethiopia...Malone...plague."

"What? Could you repeat that? I'm having trouble hearing you."

"Just...minute...signal."

A few seconds later, the hissing had subsided substantially.

"Is that better?" The Brit asked.

"Yes, who is this?"

"Nigel Koller. I'm with WHO in Ethiopia. I work with Maggie."

"Yes, please go on."

"I'm afraid we have bad news. Maggie has pneumonic plague."

Daniel sat bolted up, "_Crap!_ How is she?"

"Bad news I'm afraid. We didn't diagnose it properly at first. It appeared to be the flu everyone is getting. She's gone 13 hours without treatment."

Daniel knew that if pneumonic plague wasn't treated within twenty-four hours, the likelihood anyone would survive was almost nil. Maggie had gone a long time without a diagnosis and she had few modern medical conveniences available to her.

"Does she have ARDS yet?" Daniel referred to the next stage of the disease, Adult Respiratory Distress Syndrome, which included pulmonary edema, hypotension and shock.

"We've arranged for a helicopter to get her to Ababa, but we're very worried, she's showing signs of edema."

Daniel could feel the panic well up in his throat. Maggie Malone die? That would be a real blow. He turned his thoughts towards treatment. "What have you guys got there to treat it with?"

"We were lucky, we had one adult dose of Chloramphenicol, we have enough to get her to Ababa."

"Okay, I'm calling Ralph MacDonald, he's our guy in Ababa. You just take care of her, okay?"

"Yes, of course. Maggie's one of our favorite Yanks. I'll call after she's on her way."

The wheels were in motion. Daniel discovered that the compassion helicopter hadn't taken off yet from Ababa. He contacted the Navy and discovered they had an aircraft carrier off the coast of Somalia, the USS Nimitz. Daniel would much rather have Maggie under the care of an American medical team than a backwater African hospital. After an hour of orders being given, a helicopter was on its way to get Maggie.

Nigel and Chin were waiting with Maggie in the back of a truck, ready to go when the helicopter arrived at the landing site. They were expecting a plain compassion chopper from Ababa and were shocked to see the desert camouflaged military helicopter land and two armed Marines jump out with a Navy Corpsman following behind.

"Hallo? What are you doing here?" Chin asked.

"Sir, we're here to transfer Dr. Malone to the USS Nimitz for treatment."

Nigel's eyebrows went up, "My God, I knew Maggie was important, I just never thought they'd send in the Navy to get her."

"Marines, sir. We're the Marines and we're here for Dr. Malone."

The men started loading Maggie. Nigel and Chin gave the chart to the corpsman and then stepped back. Both felt sick to their stomachs, worried that the lapse in time had killed their friend and partner. The helicopter took off within minutes and Maggie, on a portable respirator, went into cardiac arrest from the lack of air as her lungs filled. The corpsman intubated her and placed her on oxygen, shocking her back with a portable defibulator.

When she arrived on board the ship, she was immediately transferred to an isolated room in sick bay. The doctor onboard was fascinated. He had never seen a case of pneumonic plague, which also meant he had never treated one. He had been briefing himself on the treatment as he waited for his patient and knew that this may be the first patient in years that he might lose. Maggie didn't look good. He continued the Chloramphenicol, because of its deeper tissue penetration and provided Maggie with respiratory support.

The whole ship buzzed with the information that sickbay was treating a doctor with the plague. The Captain went on the com and told the entire ship that there was no health threat. Strictly speaking, Maggie was infectious and would be until she had at least 24 hours of antibiotic treatment. But it was unlikely that any of the sailors, other than those who rode with her on the helicopter, would be effected. Even then, it was doubtful the men on the helicopter had contracted the disease; they had all followed the necessary medical precautions for handling an infected patient.

Maggie fell in and out of a deep sleep, not really aware of where she was or what was going on around her. Lt. Commander Card, her doctor, was worried; her fever hadn't started to respond to the antibiotics which had been started eight hours before at the camp.

Maggie's blood pressure was falling and it appeared that she had ARDS. At midnight, Maggie opened her eyes and was shocked to see House sitting on the bed, looking down, shaking his head.

"You're a moron. What are you doing in Africa? You had a cushy job in the States and you come here to get sick? Damn it Mags, you need to stay home. Now, here's what you have to do. Your blood pressure is falling and you're close to dying. You need to start coughing, move the sputum out of your lungs. They're going to come in and drain the fluid, it will hurt like hell. But you need to do your part. Cough, move around, start fighting back. Understand?"

Maggie nodded.

"I love you Mags. I always will."

"I love you too Greg. Thanks for coming." Maggie closed her eyes and within a few minutes an alarm went off. Corpsman barged into the room.

"We need to drain her lungs, go wake the doctor! Hurry, she won't last."

Maggie knew what this meant. They'd grab a long, huge, hollow needle and plunge it into her lung to drain it into the tube and jar it would be attached to. But Maggie was too tired to open her eyes and watch. She drifted off until someone grabbed her by the shoulders and sat her up. Pain seared through her as the needle plunged into her right lung. Her eyes flew open.

"Awwwwwwwwwwwww. Greg! Greg! Help me." Maggie screamed out.

The corpsman nodded, "Good, at least she's still here with us."

Maggie passed out from the pain.

The Corpsmen watched as the bloody sputum almost filled up a liter jar. Card rushed in and watched as they continued to drain her. Her blood pressure increased almost immediately. He listened with the scope, not happy with what he heard.

The doctor took off his stethoscope, "You're going to have to drain her left lung, it's full too."

The corpsmen looked at each other, "That sucks the big one; she was really in pain."

"I don't care, come on." He nodded at Maggie, but the two corpsman hesistated, looking at each other, "Why aren't you doing it?" the doctor asked.

"Doc, you didn't hear her scream. She was in pain, she passed out!"

"Better she scream than die. _Do it!"_

"Yes, sir."

They pierced her body again, but Maggie didn't react this time. She was now so deep in her coma that she was oblivious to the pain.

"I think she's in shock." One of the corpsmen said.

"Well, let's get her drained. Her blood pressure is better and that's what counts right now."

Maggie, kept seeing Greg when they were both young. He was tickling her and flicking the dishtowel at her butt. He kept twirling her up in his arms to make her dizzy, just like he did in Fishtown. He stopped and looked at her.

"Okay Mags, enough is enough, you have to go back now. You promised to fight."

Maggie felt sad, "But I don't want to leave you."

"You have to fight back or we'll never be together again."

She nodded. And coughed. And coughed as she fought her way back. Blood spewed everywhere. The Corpsman on watch ran in, dressed in protective clothing and helped by pounding on her back. He cleaned up the blood and looked at the monitor. Her fever was down a full degree. He broke out into a grin.

"Dr. Malone, I do believe you're going to kick this." He said to the closed-eyed Maggie.

Around 8:00 am a phone call came through to Dr. Card from Daniel who was worried when he hadn't heard anything.

"Dr. Levine, I have good news, she's turned the corner. Her blood pressure is up, her fever is down and her heart appears normal. She's coughing, but it's a productive cough and she even opened her eyes for a few minutes this morning to ask for Greg. Do you know who Greg is?"

Daniel Levine didn't know that Maggie and Greg House had once been lovers. He rummaged through her chart, "Her next of kin is her brother, Jack. I don't know a Greg."

"Well, she asked me where he was. Maybe he works with her at the camp?"

"I'll check. I'm glad to hear that she's better. Maggie's very important to us."

"We know; that's what the chart says."

"What?"

A Dr. Nigel Koller wrote in here, "Doctor's Note – If you don't save her life, it's your ass on the line. Maggie Malone is our camp mascot. We need her back."

Daniel Levine laughed, "Well, she's more important to us as an epidemiologist, but camp mascot ranks up there too."

"When she's better, what do you want us to do with her?" Dr. Card asked.

"Send her wherever she wants to go. If she wants to come home or stay in Africa, it's her call. But, if you can, keep her on the ship and make her rest. The woman doesn't know how to sit still."

Maggie started to improve and after a few days asked for a laptop. She was given access to the internet and discovered over six hundred messages-- none from Greg House. Greg's image haunted her, he felt so close when she was sick. She was sad to discover that he either hadn't been notified or didn't care enough to write.

She sent emails to all the friends and family who expressed concern. Maggie was very weak and still having some difficulty breathing although she was off the respirator. After a few more days in bed, she insisted on getting up and doing something. She made herself useful by helping diagnose and treat patients in clinic for a few hours. She joined the officers in the mess in her new scrubbs. They were all curious about how someone gets the plague and lives.

She started spending most her nights playing pinochle with a group of enlisted guys down in the engineroom. At first they couched their cursing, until Maggie lost a hand. The string of obsenities she let loose caused them all to drop their mouths and laugh. From then on out, Maggie was one of the guys.

After ten days, Maggie was climbing the bulkheads. She wanted to go back to Africa, but Daniel had told her that if she insisted on going back to Ethiopia, she had to rest up another few days. One night she was playing solitaire when the email came in. She smiled. The address was, . It had been six months since she had heard from Jim.

_Dear Maggie,_

_Hope you're doing well in Maryland and have made some progress towards finding a vaccine. Sorry I haven't written, but things have been bad here. Two months after you left, House was playing tennis when he fell over with a pain in his upper right thigh. It was misdiagnosed as a strain. Turned out to be an infarction. There was so much muscle death that they wanted to amputate. He said no, but they removed the dead muscle. Unfortunately, it was about a third of the muscle and we're not sure he'll be able to use the leg again. He's at home, in a wheelchair. Maybe you could drop him a line of encouragement. He's pretty depressed and angry over it. _

_Take care. Write and let me know what you're up to._

_Your Friend, _

_Jim Wilson_

Maggie went cold, the blood dropped from her face. She was worried, nervous, scared. She wanted more information. _Wheelchair? Greg in a wheelchair? He needs help…no, he has Stacy and Jim. He doesn't need you. Settle down._

Maggie hit the reply button.

_Dear Jim,_

_Please send me his chart. I want to review it. Should I come back? I imagine Stacy wouldn't appreciate the intrusion, but if you think he could use the encouragement, I will. Please keep me posted._

_I'm not in Maryland. I'm currently off the coast of Somalia on the USS Nimitz._

_Please let me know if he or Stacy need any help._

_Love Maggie_

She sent House one to his email at work, since it was the only email address she had:

_Dear Greg,_

_Jim told me about the infarction in your leg and the removal of the dead muscle. I am just glad that you have Stacy and Jim to get you through this. I know Stacy will take good care of you, but if there is anything I can do, let me know._

_I will pray for you and say the rosary. I know you're rolling your eyes right about now, but it can't hurt can it?_

_Love, Maggie_

She knew that Stacy would probably see the email and she didn't want to say or do anything that would give her the impression that she could do any better at taking care of him. Maggie went to the flight deck and went out to the fantail. She looked towards the northwest and prayed, her rosary in hand. The spray of the salt air hit her face, the smell of the sea and diesel oil mixed together, filling her senses. She felt a long way from home.

Maggie heard nothing from House, but she received an email from Wilson with House's chart attached.

_Dear Maggie,_

_Somalia? What the hell are you doing there?_

_I have attached the chart for your review. You never got this file, understand? As you can see, it was Stacy who made the decision to cut out the muscle after House had specifically said no. I don't know how legal that is, but I know House blames her now for not trusting and honoring his medical decision. He doesn't say it, but it's implied. He's even meaner than ever._

_I know he got your message because he said something about the Mackeral Snapper doing some voodoo in his honor. I assume you offered to pray for him. He hasn't said anything more. I didn't talk about you in front of Stacy. Like I said above, things are a little strained between them and I didn't want to cause any more stress by bringing you up._

_Take care and thanks for your prayers, we're going to need them._

_Yours Friend, Jim_

Maggie looked at the chart and the tests and knew in her heart that House would never walk normally again. And, judging from the notes, it appeared as if he was still suffering substantial pain. She hated thinking about what he was putting Stacy through. His anger, depression, fear, sorrow, must all be trying to compete for attention inside of him. He'd take it out on her.

Maggie went back to Ethiopia at the end of the week, but her immune system was weak and she picked up several viruses, nothing life threatening, but she couldn't seem to get well. Atlanta became aware of her situation after Chin called Ababa and told the CDC representatives there that Maggie was having a hard time getting out of bed and wasn't eating well.

Daniel Levine informed Maggie that if she didn't improve and gain back some of the weight, they were pulling her out of Africa and bringing her home to recuperate. Maggie was pissed at Chin, but didn't hold it against him for long. Now on her second bout of influenza, she couldn't get out of bed for almost a week and finally realized that maybe she wasn't the full shilling. She recovered from the flu, but still felt weak and exhausted. On September 9th, 2001, Maggie sent her brother a Birthday email and received back photos of her niece and nephew. They had grown so much, she didn't recognize her nephew. She suddenly felt very homesick.

September 11th, 2001, Maggie and Chin had traveled out to Makele to investigate an outbreak involving diarrhea and fever and were now on their way back to camp. It was Chin who received the first call. He took it while Maggie continued driving.

Chin's eyes grew big and his face clearly showed abject horror, "Maggie, someone is attacking the United States, flying airplanes into the World Trade Center and Pentagon."

Maggie stopped the jeep, "_What?"_ She waited for Chin to finish the call.

"They want us to get back to camp as soon as possible. Apparently, there's been some reactions in various parts around the world. The Muslims are celebrating. Maggie, it sounds like it's very bad."

"Anything else?" Maggie asked.

He shook his head.

When they got back, the entire camp was huddled around the satellite radio. Maggie had shivers up and down her spine as she heard the news. She plunged into depression as she heard about the plane which crashed in Pennsylvania. Maggie wanted, like most Americans, to be home. She felt safe in Ethiopia, a mostly Christian country, but still, her country was under attack and she felt as if there was something she should do.

Personnel from the Islamic areas of Africa were immediately evacuated back to the States. Maggie was told to stay put for now. They needed some people in Africa, just in case of an epidemic or outbreak. Maggie didn't complain, she had asked for the assignment and was ready to see it through.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It had been four months since she had left the Nimitz and Maggie hadn't felt well the entire time. She managed to keep up her end of the field work, but barely. She knew that she should probably go home and get well, but she also realized that she was one of only a handful of CDC workers in Africa, at least for now.

It was September 21st and Maggie was taking a well earned day off after working ten days straight. She was looking forward to a webcam exchange with Jack when she saw an email pop up. It was from . Maggie froze, shocked to see what she was sure was his personal email address. She hit the link.

_Dear Maggie,_

_I'm writing you, because I don't know who else to confide in. Greg always says that you're the most resourceful and resilient person he knows, so I decided to write to you. I'm leaving Greg tomorrow. _

_We've been arguing non-stop since he got home from the hospital and I've only stuck it out this long because of his condition. He's still in a wheelchair and I think he's stuck there because he wants to punish me. I don't know if Jim told you, but I was the one that made the decision to give him the operation; Greg had said no to it. At the time, I thought it was the only way to keep him alive._

_Well, he hasn't forgiven me and now we do nothing but fight. He doesn't say that he hates me for what I did, but he stops just short of it. My nerves are shattered, I'm on Xanax and Prozac. I have to get out or I'm going to fall apart, I think I already have._

_I don't know what you can do, but I know that you two still have something between you, I could see it when we met. Maybe you can help. I'm sorry, really sorry. Please let him know that if I could have stayed, I would. But I can't survive like this. I feel horrible for what I did to him._

_Stacy._

Maggie sat upright, "You can't do this! Oh my God, no!" Maggie looked at the clock, it would be ten in the morning in Princeton. Maggie grabbed the new satellite telephone the CDC had sent to her after the night of her evacuation to the Nimitz. She dialed Jim Wilson.

After going through the hospital operator she was finally put through to his extension. As the phone rang, Maggie realized her heart was racing and she was sweating even more than usual.

"James Wilson."

Maggie felt some relief when she heard his calm voice, "Jim? It's Maggie."

"Maggie! How are you? Are you home?"

"No, I'm in Africa. Did you lose anyone in September 11th?" Maggie knew that some of Wilson's family lived in New York City.

"No, we're all accounted for, thanks for asking. How are you doing down there?"

"It's relatively quiet here, but it's Princeton I'm worried about."

Wilson's ears pricked up, worried that Maggie knew something about an outbreak that he didn't. "What Maggie? Is there something we should know?"

"It's Greg. Stacy's leaving him today. Did you know that?"

_"What?"_

Her voice accelerated into a high pitched frenzy, "I'm forwarding the email to you. You have to stop her. She can't just leave him! Who's going to help him? For God's sake he's still in a wheelchair!"

Wilson fiddled with his email, "Okay, I have it. Let me read it." There was a pause, "Damn it." Another pause, "Maggie, I don't think he'll make it without Stacy. She's a lightening rod. All the anger and depression he feels, he takes it out on her. If he can't do that, it will eat him up inside. I'm afraid he might do something stupid."

"Why is he still in a wheelchair? Is his leg that bad?"

"He has a lot of pain, but he refuses to do any physical therapy. He's wasting away in the chair." There was a very pregnant pause, and a somber, "He's drinking."

Maggie sighed, "Oh, God. Jim, can you give me Stacy's number?"

"What are you going to say?"

"I'm going to beg her not to do it."

"You're not going to change her mind. She's been a basket case. I'm surprised that this didn't happen sooner. He's been vicious."

"He's doing it to test her."

"I don't know Maggie, all I know is that she's probably right. She won't survive much longer the way he's taking chunks out of her."

Maggie sighed, "I need her phone number."

Wilson gave it to her, "Maggie, I hope you can talk her out of it, but if not, I can't do this on my own. He's in his own private hell."

"I understand Jim. Take care and I'll call you back."

"Thanks Maggie."

There was a click of the receiver and the phone went dead. Maggie dialed and was relieved when Stacy picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hi Stacy, this is Maggie."

"Maggie." She didn't sound surprised. "Where are you? You sound so clear."

"I'm still in Africa, we have a new satellite phone, it's marvelous. Stacy, I'm calling about your email. Please, please don't leave him. He loves you; he told me he loves you. He wants to marry you."

She laughed, "No, he doesn't. Don't lie to me Maggie."

"He told me in Princeton that he was going to ask you."

"Well, he's had almost a year and he hasn't."

"He's probably waiting to get better. Stacy, please, he's just using you as a whipping boy. He doesn't mean it. You know that if he doesn't take it out on you, he'll take it out on himself. He's more fragile than he leads on. Losing his leg and losing you…that much emotion would kill him."

"Maggie, I _can't." _There was a brief silence and then her voice started to constrict, "He's really cruel. I feel guilty 24/7 and I just can't take it anymore. I love him, but the relationship is dead now. There's been too much pain and venom between us."

Maggie took a deep breath. "Stacy, _please, at least wait a few more months?"_

"No. I can't, I wish I could, but I can't."

"Can you wait a few more days? It's going to take me at least a week to get there, probably more."

Stacy's voice was whispery, "Sorry Maggie, I have the movers coming today while he's at the hospital getting his MRI and check up. It's a done deal."

Maggie's frustration poured out, "Damn it, Stacy! He really loves you!"

She went quiet, "He loves you too Maggie. It's _your turn_ to take care of him."

The phone went dead. Maggie dialed Atlanta, telling them that she had a family emergency, needed to get back to the States and get well herself. Daniel didn't argue with her. From all accounts, Maggie was still sick and emaciated. They made arrangements for her to return to Philadelphia. The plans and trip took her six days, because of a strike in the Ababa airport. After arriving at the Philadelphia airport, she made her way through customs. Renting a car, she drove up to House's apartment and arrived two hours after touching down.

Maggie was tired, she hadn't slept since she left Africa and she was feeling sick, exhausted. Grabbing her luggage out of the trunk, she then walked up to the door. She knocked, but there was no answer. She tried the door knob and found it locked. Looking around for a key, she felt the door jamb, but there was no key. She went outside and went around to the side and checked for an open window, finding an unlocked one in the kitchen. She crawled in through the kitchen into the sink and full of dirty dishes. The counters were strewn with half eaten food, trash and papers. As she walked through the apartment, she was amazed at how dirty it was. The living room had very little furniture, a small table and two chairs, one easy chair, a small love seat, piano, television and stereo. Apparently, most of the furniture had been Stacy's.

"Greg?" She yelled, but no answer. She went to the front door, opened it and grabbed her luggage to bring it inside. Closing the door, she put the luggage in the living room, "Greg?"

It was quiet and then a slurred voice yelled from the back, "Whoever the fuck is out there, get the hell out."

Maggie couldn't stand the stench in the apartment. Walking down the hall, she turned when she got to his bedroom door. A book hit her in the head.

"I told you to get the fu…Maggie?"

Maggie looked quickly around. There was a wheelchair next to the bed, glasses on the night stand and bags of potato chips, candy wrappers and peanut husks around the room, half eaten. The smell was a mixture of alcohol, urine and sweat. Maggie thought she would gag, it was so strong. "Greg? Why'd you throw a book at me?"

"I wanted you to leave me alone. What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you."

He put his arm over his eyes, "Yeah, well now you've seen me, _now go_."

"Sorry, but your wallowing days are done. _Nurse Olga is here_."


	36. Chapter 18 Part I Olga Rules

**Maggie's Story**

**Chapter 18 –Part I**

**Olga Rules**

I could barely see in the room, it was so dark. How anyone could exist in the clutter and smell I wasn't sure. I went over and opened a curtain only to get another book upside my head.

I hissed, "You throw another damn book at me and you're going to find God sooner than you thought."

He screamed forcibly, "_Close the blinds!"_

I yelled back with as much force, "_No! I've got to get you up and clean this place._ Where's Wilson?"

"Hell if I know. He said something about his father having a heart attack. I haven't seen him in a few days."

He looked like hell, his beard was several days old, hair matted, eyes red (which I suspected was from crying and drinking) and terrible, smelly breath. I went over to the bed and looked down at him.

He wrinkled his nose up at me, "Jesus Christ don't they have food in Africa? You look like Posh Spice after a trip to the toilet."

I was trying decided where to start. I decided he was where I needed to start. "Okay Greg, we're getting you into the wheelchair."

He snickered, "Like hell."

I pulled the dirty sheets and comforter off of him and his bed. He yelled.

"Stop! Put that back on and get out of here." He lifted up on his elbows and scowled at me.

I looked down and my stomach turned when I saw the huge, puckered scar on his leg. I wanted to hold him, protect him, but he was obviously not ready for human contact. I put the wheelchair next to the bed and went over to help him into it. He saw me stare at his leg and I saw a deep pain in his eyes.

"Get out! I don't want your pity."

"Well, I am sorry. But that's the last of my pity you're getting, your own pity party is over. If you don't help me get you into the wheelchair I'll sell you on the internet."

"Give me back my covers."

"Greg, look in my eyes." I stared at him, "It's Maggie, not Jim, not Stacy and not some vapid brunette. Do you think I'm going to just slink away? Dream on broomstick cowboy…your worst nightmare has arrived."

He refused to budge. I went out to the sink, filled a small pan with water, grabbed some ice cubes and put them in the water. The whole time I was in the kitchen he was screaming for me to bring his covers back. I looked in the hall closet and found a fan, took it out, grabbed the pan of ice water and went back to his room. I plugged in the fan, turning it on him directly.

"Turn that damn thing off!"

"Greg, you have ten seconds to get into that wheel chair. Ten-nine-eight-seven-six-five-four-three-two-one."

He didn't do anything, but glare at me. I took the pan and threw the water on him. His shocked body jerked up.

"_You fucking bitch!" _

"Oh, honey, you remembered my name."

The fan was now blowing on him full blast, making his entire body break out with goose bumps. I walked over and supported the wheel chair. I said very calmly, "A warm shower or bath is waiting for you if you just get your ass into the wheelchair." He paused defiantly and I laughed, and in my best sarcastic voice told him, "Oh Greg, you're really scaring me….ewwww."

His body was turning a mottled purple. He grabbed a pill with some booze in a glass, which I pulled away from him forcibly, wrestling it until most of it had spilled down his chest. I handed him the last dregs of a water bottle. He took the pill and then scooted to the edge of the bed. With a good yank, we had him in the wheelchair. He turned the chair and made a run for the covers, but I kicked them away so he couldn't get them if he stayed in the wheelchair.

I locked his wheels, which pissed him off. Then I went into the bathroom and started a bath. I thought soaking his leg would do him good. I rolled him into the bathroom, it taking me a good fifteen minutes as he tried to reach out and grab walls, tables, jambs, anything to keep me from wheeling him around. He wanted to make it difficult to take care of him and he was succeeding.

I laughed again, "You think this is going to work? Honey, you know I'm much tougher than you. Now, behave Greg. I'm running out of places to bury the bodies."

"Screw you."

"You wish."

The tub was waiting and I'm not sure why, but he allowed me to take off his boxers and then ease him into the water. He laid back and closed his eyes. I filled a glass and poured water over his head, grabbed the shampoo and started washing his hair. It smelled like coconut. He tilted his head back as I rinsed his hair. He looked up and I saw those blue eyes and the misery behind them. My heart ached for him. I almost leaned down and kissed his forehead, but didn't. He needed tough love or he'd think he could run over me. I grabbed a washcloth and cleaned his back. Then I rubbed his temples for a few minutes.

"Now, you clean the rest of your body and I'll change your bed."

"But you're missing out on the best part."

"It's my lost."

I went out and quickly rushed around the bedroom rounding up dirty clothes and changing the sheets. The bed was a little wet from where I had poured the water on him, but it was mostly the mattress pad that was soaked and I needed to wash it anyway. After I made the bed, and cleaned off the night stand, I went back into the bathroom. He was waiting for me to help him out.

"Did you want to shave?"

He shook his head. I thought he looked incredibly handsome with the short beard. I didn't want to say anything, because I didn't want him to think I was there for sex or a relationship. I was there to get him to start taking care of himself.

We brushed his teeth and then I wheeled him back into the bedroom which smelled considerably better. I dressed him in boxers, t-shirt and sweat pants, not an easy feat when you consider that I was weak from my illness and about fifteen pounds thinner than normal.

"Would you like to go out and watch television or go back to bed? I need some sleep, I've only had a few hours in the last few days and I'm knackered."

He waved me away with his hand, "Why don't you go now. I can handle it from here. Thanks for the bath. Good bye."

I smiled and shook my head, "Right and any moment your nurse, Cameron Diaz, will be here to take over. What will it be? Bed or living room?"

"Bed."

I wasn't going to argue. I needed sleep to be able to deal with him and his mess. I helped him back into bed, took off my clothes except for my t-shirt and panties and crawled into the bed. He kept looking over at me.

"You just waltz in and crawl in my bed?"

"To sleep, perchance to dream. Don't get your hopes up. I'm not here to meet your sexual needs, I'm here to kick you in the ass. Now, I'm going to sleep."

I fell asleep almost instantly until I felt a hand on my arm shaking me and a voice making demands, "Get up and answer the door, it's my pizza."

I was groggy, trying hard to wake up. Looking towards the window in his bedroom, I could see it was night. The doorbell was ringing over and over. I jumped up. "Just a minute!" I yelled. I ran out to the living room and opened the door. The delivery boy looked at me strangely and I realized I had no pants on, just panties. It was too late to be modest so I grabbed my purse paid him, gave him a tip and took the pizza.

"You owe me 11.00." I yelled back.

"Put it on my tab."

I grabbed plates, paper towels, forks and newspaper. Spreading the newspaper on his lap, I handed him a plate with two large pieces on it. I sat back on the bed with my one.

"Why are you skin and bones?" he asked as he chewed the Supreme Pizza he had ordered.

"I've been sick."

"With what?"

"Doesn't matter."

"What are you doing here? How'd you find out?"

"About your leg or Stacy?"

"Both."

"Jim told me about your leg. Stacy told me she was leaving."

He flinched when I mentioned that Stacy had left him.

He looked at me with pain behind his eyes, "Maggie, just go. I don't want anyone here."

I looked him in the eyes and smiled, "I can't do that Greg. Believe me, I wish I could. I wish I could stop caring, but you and I will always be a part of each other and I can't let you kill yourself with your self-pity."

"There's nothing you can do. I don't give a damn anymore. "

"Maybe. But, I do."

Over the next three days he continued to ignore me or berate me. I had problems adjusting to the time zone. I still wasn't rested enough to start cleaning, so I just picked up a little, got the rotting food into the trash can and took the alcohol and put it up high. Greg would either have to stand up to get his booze or ask me. He watched me do this and shook his head.

"It's my booze, get me a drink."

"You need to sober up first. Tomorrow you can have a drink." I turned to him and put my hands on my hips. "I'm going to bed, it's nine pm."

Around 2 am, I woke up to the sound of glass shattering. I jumped up and ran out to the living room. Greg was sitting in his wheelchair, his eyes wild with pain and anger, he had a crutch in his hand which was extended, trying to pull the bottles of alcohol down and catch them as they fell. Two bottles were already splintered on the floor.

"Greg!" I screamed. Still sleepy, I did a stupid thing, I ran towards him. He turned in his wheelchair just in time to see me step on a large sliver of glass, "Ahgggg! Oh damn!"

Blood started pouring out of the wound. I gave Greg a dirty look and went over to the chair.

"Don't get your blood on that rug, it cost 5,000."

"Screw you."

He didn't even look contrite. "If you hadn't been a bitch, this wouldn't have happened. You're going to need stitches."

I barked back, _"I know asshole!" _I limped into the bathroom and yanked a hand towel off the rack, wrapped it around my foot and put on some of his sweatpants, which looked comically baggy and bunched up around the ankles on me. I grabbed the keys to his car so that I didn't bleed on the rental and ran out the door. Two hours later I was back with stitches in my foot, a nice bandage and a surgical sock over it. I hobbled inside and looked at the mess he had made. There were probably three more bottles on the floor and he was passed out with one in his lap. His face was contorted, as if he had gone to sleep in the middle of a spasm of pain or a dream of Stacy.

I sat on the easy chair and cried to myself. He was in a tailspin, diving fast into the earth. I was hoping I was up to the task. It sounded like both Stacy and Jim had batted zero, maybe I was his last best hope. Or was I? I stayed up for the next six hours and cleaned. I hobbled around, doing five loads of laundry, washing the fridge, cleaning up glass, and scrubbin his bathroom, all while he slept the booze off. Crashing back into the easy chair, I fell asleep until I heard screaming in my ear.

"_Feed me!"_

I jumped. "What the …" I turned and looked at him, "Feed yourself."

His eyes bloodshot, his face puffy from the alcohol, he barked, "I can't get around the kitchen in the wheelchair."

"Then stand up and walk around."

"In case you haven't noticed that scar—"

I knitted my brows and puckered my lips, giving him a staged look of sympathy, "Ah, poor baby." Turning my back to him to go back to sleep, I yelled over my shoulder, "Go get yourself some food. You managed to get yourself some booze."

He rolled over to the phone and dialed the pizza place again, ordering a pizza and beer. I finally got up and went back to the freshly spruced bathroom, took a shower and came out to find him eating pizza for breakfast. I shook my head and went in to get some cereal. There was none. Grocery shopping was next on my list. I grabbed a piece of pizza.

"I've just spent six hours cleaning your crap up. Try not to mess it up while I'm at the grocery store? Is there anything you want?"

"More beer, more candy, more potato chips and you need to replace my booze."

"Yeah, and you need to be neutered." I walked out the door. Despite his diet, Greg had lost a substantial amount of weight. The two of us looked like we had just gotten back from the Bataan Death March. I picked up food, got some gas in the car and drove back to find the police walking out the front door of the apartment building.

I was holding several bags of groceries and trying to grab my keys to get in, "Officers, is there something wrong?"

"Is that your husband?" The tall, Latino-looking cop motioned towards Greg's apartment.

"Yes." I lied.

"We almost took him in for throwing things at us. But we see he's in a wheelchair, so we gave him a break. Tell him to keep the music down; we had four complaints in less than an hour."

I nodded. Greg had just declared war.

I went into the apartment and smiled at him. "Why don't you lay down for awhile? I have some work to do out here."

He agreed to read in bed. After rolling him back and installing him in his bed, I took him the journals that had been stacking up inside his mailbox. I went out to the living room and began my attack. I took the wheelchair and rolled it outside, called Salvation Army and told them to come and get it. I crawled behind the stereo and unplugged it from the outlet. Looking around, I found his cell phone and took out the battery, putting it in the upper cupboard of the kitchen. I took what booze was left and threw it out. The television plug was hard to get to, but I managed to pull the cord until the plug came to. Guitars, banjo, harmonica, were all gently put in the back of his hall closet. I crawled under the desk and unplugged the computer. Standing in the middle of the living room, I looked around; I was ready. Stomping back to his bedroom, I turned on the fan again. I had a pan of ice water.

He narrowed his eyes, "What are you going to do with that?"

"It depends." I looked at the deep creases near his eyes, the lines that hadn't been there before and wondered if the leg or Stacy had put them there. I mustered a scowl and snarled, "You can cancel my subscription, because I'm tired of your issues. From now on, you're getting up and walking to strengthen your leg. You're going to help clean up, bathe yourself, start living. If you don't, I'll torture you into submission. I picked up a few techniques in Africa."

He laughed at me until I dribbled some of the ice water on him.

His body jerked from the cold. Making motions towards the phone, he clenched his jaw, "I'm calling the cops."

I walked over and unplugged the phone. "Fine, get your ass up and plug it back in."

He looked around, "Where's the wheel chair?"

"Salvation Army."

A journal flew at my head. I poured the rest of the water on him. He jumped, arms flailing, his eyes flashing open. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me onto the bed, rolling over, pinning me down, his eyes no longer miserable, but angry. I wasn't sure if I wanted him substituting anger for misery, but at least he was moving around.

He looked down, teeth clenched, "_Maggie! If you do that again…"_

We looked at each other, his face six inches from mine. The tension was almost unbearable. I wanted so much to kiss and hug him, bring him back to earth. I could tell he wanted me too. He was debating whether to take me or let me up, his deep blue eyes searching me for a response. I said nothing, waiting for his decision, not sure what I'd do if he did take me.

He paused, looking at me, his face inching slightly closer, then jerking back. He let me go and sat up, "Damn, now I'm wet and that fan is …" He took a journal and threw it at the fan, knocking it over. The safety switch kicked in, stopping it. Pulling his leg out of bed with this hand, he sat at the edge of it.

We both were silent, letting what just happened between us dissipate. I stood up and picked up the fan. I didn't turn it on him, instead, I stood, hand primed on the switch, waiting until he had something to say.

He clenched his teeth, shaking his head back and forth, finally looking up at me. "I can't stand on the leg, it hurts like hell."

My voice was kind, sweet, loving, "I know Greg. But if you don't start now, you'll be in a wheelchair your whole life. The stronger your leg, the less pain. We have to strengthen it before it atrophies."

He said nothing, which was a good sign. If he wasn't going to do it, he would have told me. I went out and got his crutches. "Let's get you into the bathroom for a bath so I can change the sheets and put the mattress cover back on."

Again, he said nothing, but when I brought back the crutches, he let me help him up. It took us several minutes to get him into the bathroom, but we did. I ran the bath and got him into it, leaving him to soak. I changed the bed and looked at it. I wanted so much to flop down on it and go to sleep.

"Hey? Anyone out there? I'm shriveling up, prunes where my balls used to be."

I went in and got him out, drying his backside off. I gave him a pinch on the butt. He tightened his cheeks reflexively.

I giggled, "Nice butt."

"You may kiss it if you like."

"Wow, now that's an offer I think I'll pass up."

We got him out to the living room and I spent half an hour with him doing isotonic exercises, making him push his right foot against my thigh. We switched to motion exercises. He bitched and moaned the entire time, calling me names and telling me I was a Catholic whore, a baby killer. I simply smiled and nodded.

When we were done, I rewarded him by walking down the street and buying him a mocha frappachino, which he sucked up while I went in and started dinner. I was shocked to find him standing behind me in the kitchen, leaning on his crutches.

"Mags?"

"Hmmm?"

"Why _are_ you here?"

"When I got the call from Stacy, I felt like I had no choice. I care about you and you're my friend. I thought I could help."

He said very solemnly, "Maggie, I don't love you anymore."

I hadn't come so that he could tell me that he loved me or start a relationship, but it still hurt to hear it. I continued to stir the sauce.

"That's okay Greg, you don't have to. I'm not here because I expect something back."

He nodded. "I used up all my love on Stacy."

"Well, that's understandable. Hopefully, you'll find someone you can love later, when you've healed. I'll pray for you."

He snickered, closed his eyes and shook his head, "Maggie you never change."

I turned and glared at him, "Do you want me to change Greg?"

His eyes went soft as he leaned against the jamb of the door, his body leaning on his left leg, "No, I don't think I do. You're perfect the way you are."

I chuckled, "Well, I don't believe you. But thanks for the sentiment." Our eyes locked and we shared a moment of compassion before I turned back to the stove.

From then on out, Greg had to earn his gadgets back by using his crutches and exercising. He earned his stereo, television, telephone, instruments and computer back by working hard on his leg and using his crutches. He actually started to work out on his own. We bought him a stationary bike, which helped a lot. I also took him out and together we found a sofa, not my style, a dark leather and testosterone laden, but it seemed to fit his personality. He was starting to get around on the crutches really well, so well that he was able to keep up with me, chasing me around the apartment to argue with me while I cleaned, sorted and straightened.

I was still tired and worn out, which meant I went down for a nap almost every day. One afternoon, after telling him that I was going for a nap, I sat down on the bed, my rosary in my hand, closed my eyes and prayed.

"Lord, please strengthen his leg and take away his pain. Give him the courage to love someone again and then send someone into his life that he can love. If you don't mind God, I'd like someone to love too. But, take care of Greg first. I can wait. Amen." I made the sign of the cross and then looked up to see him standing in the door shaking his head. He turned and, with his crutches, went back to the living room.

He didn't say anything that evening, but eventually he asked, "Are you lonely Mags?"

I giggled, "Lonely? I have lots of friends and my family. I'm not lonely for company. But, I am lonely for that one person who measures your highs and lows, is in pain when you're in pain, laughs if you're happy. I'd like that in my life." I was looking out into space, thinking about what was missing from my life. I turned and smiled, "I'm lonely for that."

"Then next time you put in an order to God for love, move yourself up a notch. I don't want it."

"I know you're in pain, in more ways than one, but Greg, I really want you to be happy. And, you were happier when you were living with Stacy. It's odd, but you actually do better when you're in a relationship."

"You weren't here the last two years."

"Maybe it wasn't the right relationship, but when it was good, you were happier."

"You're such a romantic, too optimistic for your own good."

I went to Mass on Wednesday morning, stopping to do some grocery shopping before I went back to the apartment. When I got home, Jim was with Greg. They were watching television and drinking beer. I hadn't let Greg have any alcohol since the bottle busting incident. But then, he hadn't asked for any. Jim followed me into the kitchen and grabbed me, hugging me tight.

"Maggie, you're a miracle worker. Thank you, thank you, thank you."

I warned him, "Jim, he's nowhere near being okay."

"But he hasn't touched those crutches in six months, hasn't been sober in five, hasn't wanted to do _anything_ in months, didn't even care if he pissed on himself. I don't know how you did it, but he's even starting to talk about going back to work in a few weeks."

"That is good! I'm glad I could help. I only have ten days left and then I have to get back."

Jim gave me another short hug and stepped back, studying me. "Maggie, you don't look well."

Greg came into the kitchen, "You're right, she doesn't look well. You're sleeping a lot too. Where have you been?'

"Africa. I was in Africa studying Anthrax. I'm recovering from pneumonic plague."

Their collective mouths dropped open, eyes widened.

Greg barked at me, "When?"

"A few months ago. I haven't been able to get well."

Greg walked over to me, grabbed my chin and looked at me with the eyes of a clinician. "You've lost a lot of weight, what else is going on?"

"I have a low grade fever, fatigue, headache."

Greg turned to Jim, "We need to get her to the hospital and run some tests."

I frowned, "I'm not that bad off."

But he was off to the bedroom, putting on a clean t-shirt. Jim turned to me, smiling as he shrugged his shoulders, "You have to let him, he's actually excited about something that's not his leg or Stacy."

"I don't want to be human bait for Greg House."

"It could be worse; you could be a human sacrifice for Greg House."


	37. Chapter 18 Part II Olga Rules

**MAGGIE'S STORY**

**CHAPTER 18 PART II**

**OLGA RULES**

Piling into Wilson's car, we drove to the hospital. The whole time we were in the car Greg was bouncing differentials off of Jim, completely ignoring the fact that I was a doctor and had extensive knowledge of zoonotic and infectious diseases. I stopped listening to the content and concentrated on the tenor of his voice. He was engaged, almost manic, truly delighted to have something to think about other than his leg. When we arrived, he ordered blood, xrays and an MRI.

I waited in Greg's office while several people stopped in to see how he was, also asking about Stacy. Each time I felt horrible for him. But, he always had a quip, "She had an AA meeting," "her hemorrhoids were inflamed," "she went out to find someone else to mangle."

I wanted to take his mind off of their inquiries, "What do you think I have?"

Without missing a beat, "Brucellosis."

I jumped out of my seat, "_What?"_

"You're sick, not deaf, you heard me. It fits. You have a headache, fatigue, fever, myalgia and you just got back from Africa." He paused, "And what the hell were you doing in Africa? You were supposed to be chasing Ebola vaccines in Maryland."

"I found out I like field work better."

"Anthrax in Africa?"

"You never know." My cell phone rang. I grabbed it out of my purse and looked at the caller ID. It was Atlanta. "Hello?"

"Dr. Malone, this is Jeff Koplan."

I sat up, wondering what the head of the CDC was doing calling me, "Yes, sir?"

"Hello, Dr. Malone. Sorry to bother you while you're on vacation, but you've probably heard about the Anthrax case in Florida?"

I nodded to myself as I answered, "Yes, sir. The Sun 63 year old photo-director, uh… why sir? Sporadic cases do occur in the states?"

"Yes, the Florida State Department of Health and CDC confirmed. We thought it was an isolated case; it may still be. However, we've just received a skin biopsy from Erin O'Conner, an NBC Nightly News employee. She's 38 and the mother of a toddler, wife of an NYPD police officer. She's the assistant to Tom Brokaw. On September 25th she opened a letter postmarked from Trenton containing a brown granular substance. The letter was addressed with crude handwritten block letters, with no return address. On the 28th she ran a low-grade fever and developed a rash on her collarbone. Luckily her doctor suspected Anthrax right away and prescribed CIPRO. I understand you're in Princeton?"

"Yes, sir."

"The postmark on the envelope was from Trenton, New Jersey. We believe the letter was probably mailed from Princeton."

I felt chills go down my spine. "Anthrax? Are they sure?"

"I'm afraid so. We're sending a team to Princeton to investigate."

"Investigate?"

"Well, we need to know where it came from and what strain it is. It's likely to be a lab strain, so we need to figure out what lab it came from. We need an epidemiologist to lead the investigation and you're it. You're the only one with real Anthrax experience."

"We're setting up at the New Jersey Department of Health and Senior Services in Trenton. So for now, you're going to be assigned to Princeton and the Trenton area. There's no need to tell you, but this is going to be a political nightmare if we don't get it right."

"Yes, Sir." Maggie looked at the calendar; it was October 10th, 2001.

"The team will be there at 10:00 am, at the Health Department. I appreciate the fact that you're cutting your vacation short. Goodbye Dr. Malone."

"Yes, sir. Goodbye." I hung up and looked at Greg.

"You look like death warmed over. What was that about?"

"Anthrax. There's been a letter delivered to Tom Brokaw's office with Anthrax. His assistant opened it and now she has cutaneous anthrax."

Greg gave me a sly smile. "Bitchen. And you just happen to be the CDC queen of Anthrax." He thought a second, "Mags, if you have Brucellosis, you're going to be very susceptible to Anthrax. You need antibiotics and rest."

"It doesn't look like I have the luxury of rest."

He turned to his computer and typed. He shrugged his shoulders, "Let's go get you some Doxycycline and Rifampin for your relapse. Then we need to get you home and to bed."

"I can't stay with you! You could get sick from me."

"Brucellosis doesn't usually pass from human to human, you know that. Not unless you're going to breast feed me or have sex with me, both of which I could be up for…"

I let his ramblings go over my head, "Greg! Are you sure? Now that the CDC is paying for it, I could move out."

"Do what you want, but not because of me. If you want to stay with me, that's okay."

I started laughing, "I think that's as close as you're going to come to telling me you want me to stay. I guess I'll stay with you."

"Fine, but remember, fish and company begin to stink after a few days."

"Am I stinking?"

"Not yet."

"I need to call my boss, let them know my condition."

Greg nodded, "Good idea."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I was told that, until I recovered, to work part time in the field and the rest of the time I could monitor the investigation from the apartment. I spent a lot of time in meetings, on conference calls, instant messenger and email. In the meantime, Greg actually started to do things for me while I was working.

I would be at the computer and he'd slap me upside the head, "Take your nap. I'll scrounge up dinner."

Of course, it was usually take out, but it was an effort on his part and money out of his pocket. He also examined me every day and on the tenth day ran blood tests. I had apparently done well on the drugs and was no longer contagious.

Greg informed the hospital that he would be returning to work November 1st. In the meantime, he helped me organize and conduct a massive investigation from home. It only got worse; we discovered that the postal workers in Hamilton, New Jersey at the U.S. Postal Service Trenton Mail Processing and Distribution Center had been exposed to Anthrax because several letters containing it had been processed through the center. The September 18th envelopes sent to the New York Post and Tom Brokaw were mailed in or around Trenton, New Jersey, processed at the Hamilton, New Jersey, facility, and transported to the U.S. Postal Service Brentwood Mail Processing and Distribution Center in Washington. Within two days, two postal workers came down with cutaneous Anthrax. It was found that one of the postal workers did not have any contact with the contaminated postal centers nor did he have direct contact with any of the envelopes containing the Anthrax. We determined that his contact must have been through cross-contaminated mail. It was one of my jobs to find out where the letters had been posted. Over the next few months, we back tracked the mail to the inside of a mailbag that had been used by one of the mail carriers who worked the Princeton route. We later discovered spores inside a mailbox on Nassau in Princeton, near Princeton University. I shuddered to think that the person who mailed the envelopes had been walking the streets of Princeton at the same time I was.

I did go to several sites and look around briefly, just to get an understanding of the physical layout. We went into the post office in Hamilton, which had now been shut down and about to be "remediated." We heard that it would take an estimated 50 million dollars to shut the processing center down and sanitize it. It actually cost 65 million in the end.

At first I stayed in the apartment, living and sleeping with Greg. We were roommates--familiar roommates that knew each other a little too well. I could tell he was beginning to make the slow climb out of his depression when he started fighting with me about the Catholic Church. We fought on a daily basis about something. But, nothing got under my skin except when he continually called me a second rate doctor.

He sat, legs up on the new coffee table, dressed in his blue jeans and green silk-screen printed shirt. He had started wearing a beard that, looked good full, but looked better when it was closely cropped. I had to admit that he still looked handsome, if not a little more wrinkled, to be expected at the age of forty-two. "If you were a real doctor, you'd be out there practicing medicine, not running around asking people when they first got a cold sore and if they would like a vaccination for genital warts."

I wagged a finger at him, "In Africa I treated more diseases than you'll ever see. So, get off my case. I do exactly what you do, I solve puzzles. Where did the disease come from? It's a puzzle and I solve medical puzzles, just like you!"

"Ha! You could never do what I do. You need a brain to do that." He was still sitting on his leather sofa, holding a glass of whiskey while I was sitting in the easy chair.

"Maybe not, but I do what I can." I yelled back. He had managed to do what he set out to do, get me flustered. I hadn't cried at all since I had been with him, but his attack on my professional abilities was too much. To know that he thought I was a second rate doctor hurt deeply. I let a single tear roll down my cheek and then I sucked it up. But he had seen it.

His face screwed up and his eyebrows knitted, "Mags, Damn it, you're fucking brilliant at what you do, even if it isn't _real medicine_. I know, I read everything you write. I follow your career like a groupie. I knew you were back in Africa after that article on Dengue Fever you wrote. I just wanted to rile you. You shouldn't listen to me."

I nodded, but still couldn't say anything yet. I finally managed to get out, "Greg, I know I'm your punching bag, but sometimes you hit below the belt. I can take a lot, but sometimes it would be nice if you'd let me know you at least like me."

He sneered, "You're an adult; I shouldn't have to coddle you or pat you on the head and tell you what a wonderful human you are. Get a grip Maggie."

"No, but after a month with you, I know why Stacy left." As soon as it left my mouth, I knew I shouldn't have said it. His face fell and he took a long drink of whiskey. "Greg, I didn't mean that either. I know you're in pain. I know you miss her and I'm a poor substitute. I wish I could bring her back to you.

He said nothing to me. We had both managed to draw blood.

As soon as I had recovered from the Brucellosis, I picked up a government-issued car and made numerous trips to the various sites to assist in the tracing the path of the Anthrax. We found most cases of anthrax to be epidemiologically linked to sites contaminated by implicated envelopes; however, not all cases had direct exposures to targeted worksites, implicated envelopes, or mail-processing facilities along the mail path. We were starting to get frustrated.

Greg had gone back to work in November, resulting in a tired and even crankier Greg, but at least a Greg with a purpose. He was drinking a little too much, but I was so busy, I didn't really monitor how bad it was. Jim called me and told me that House was still miserable and talked daily about Stacy. I didn't realize how much he missed her, because he never talked about her around me. I decided that I needed to monitor his alcohol and see how bad his drinking had become.

The day before Thanksgiving I left Trenton early to get to the grocery store. We had been invited to Dr. Cuddy's as well as to Jack and Theresa's for Thanksgiving, but Greg said no and I didn't argue. I went to the grocery store and purchased the makings for Thanksgiving dinner. When I got home, Greg wasn't there. I tried his cell phone, but no response. Around 10 pm, still feeling the effects of two major infections in one year, I went to bed.

Around 1:00 am, I woke up briefly as I heard the door close. I went straight back to sleep, comforted that he was home safely. I woke up an hour later with a hand going up my pajama top, grabbing my breast. I came out of my sleep flailing my arms in all directions, only to have Greg grab them and pin them back.

"Maggie, it's me, it's me!" His voice was slurred.

"Greg? What are you doing?" I could smell his Talisker breath.

"Shhhh. Just enjoy it."

"Enjoy what?" I barked. I could make out his eyes from the light from the night light in the bathroom. They were glazed from alcohol.

But he said nothing back. He lifted my top while still holding my hands over my head. His lips found my nipple and he started sucking. Lifting his head he told me, "They're still gorgeous you know." He went back to licking and sucking.

I tried to stay calm, but the smell of his hair, the touch of his mouth on my breast and the feel of his chest on me was hard to take. There wasn't a bone in my body that didn't ache for what he was doing, but I knew that this was a huge mistake, "Greg, put the nipple down and let my hands go. You don't want this. You don't want me. It's Stacy you love, not me. _This isn't what you want_."

Greg lifted up and smiled at me. His lips were about to make contact with mine when I turned my head away. He made contact with my ear.

"Maggie, we don't have to be in love to make love. We're adults, _it's just sex_."

"It may be sex for you, but not for me. Now get over to your side."

He bolted up, "Jesus Christ, I'm forty-two years old, not ninety. Do you know how hard it is to sleep next to a woman and not f#ck her? Especially one that you know is good in bed? Maggie, if you're not going to screw me, I can't do this anymore."

I sat up in bed, truly shocked at his outburst, "I didn't know." I took a deep breath, looking down at the ground as I swung my legs out of bed, "I'm sorry. I just thought … well, it seemed like you were treating me like a –" I chuckled, "I was going to say, sister, but then I doubt you'd be sleeping with your sister. I don't know; it didn't seem like you were having any trouble."

He turned, his eyes narrowed, his mouth clenched, "Stacy left me, she didn't take my balls with her_. I'm not a eunuch_."

The venom was potent. I nodded, "Sure, I get it now." Swallowing hard, I just kept nodding my head like a bobble head doll, "I really am sorry. I never wanted to cause you any further pain. I guess this is where I start to stink." I climbed out of bed, turned on the light and grabbed my bag.

He sighed with frustration and shook his head, "You don't have to go tonight."

I continued to pack, "I think it's best that I leave."

He pulled the bag away from me, "Maggie, don't leave tonight. I'd feel like crap kicking you out the night before Thanksgiving. Stay. You can sleep on the couch."

I started laughing at the idea that I'd be banished to the couch. He realized how absurd it was. He began to laugh too.

"Seriously, just stay where you are; go back to bed. I'll get through the night. Okay?"

I reluctantly put my bag on the chair and climbed back in bed.

He looked at me, gave me half a smile, "I don't say it very often, but Maggie, you're one of a kind. I wish that things had worked out differently."

"Yeah, I know. We keep having this conversation. But, you need to concentrate on getting your life back together. I think I'm just a distraction now. It's time that I go. I'll find an apartment in Trenton, nearer to the center."

We had a pleasant Thanksgiving, avoiding anything that was remotely connected to relationships, sex or us. I didn't realize it then, but that would be the last time I would see him, touch him, talk to him, laugh with him, for years. I moved out the next day into the Embassy Suites in Trenton.

I was so lonely. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed sharing a daily routine with a man. Over the last two months, Greg and I would talk to each other once a day on the phone to figure out dinner. I always got into the shower first; he took his as soon as I was out, frequently while I was at the mirror putting on my makeup. We'd discussed the oddest things while he soaped up and rinsed. I admit I occasionally looked at his package, fond memories flooding my body. He didn't try to cover up, but I did. He only managed to see my breasts once (before the night he tried to have sex with me.) I was dressing in the bedroom when he opened the door from the bathroom to the bedroom, took a good look and smiled. I slammed the door closed. We had all those mundane moments when you watch television together, eat dinner, floss before you go to sleep and roll someone over when they snore. I wanted it back, I wanted him back. But it was a fantasy, he wasn't really mine, I had just managed to steal back a little of what we once had. Now it was gone. I was on my own…again.

Even though I was only a few minutes away, Greg didn't attempt to call or email me. I might as well have been in Africa. I went up to Philly quite a bit and Jim came down and had dinner with me a few times. He also called at least twice a week. Around Christmas he gave me good news, Greg had graduated to a cane, but he was still miserable without Stacy.

"Maggie? What are you going to do for Christmas?" Jim asked.

"I'm going home to Philadelphia, spend a few days with my family."

"That's good."

"What about Greg?"

Wilson sighed, "I'll spend it with him; I usually do. Don't worry. "

I hated asking him, but I couldn't resist, "Does he know you see me?"

"Yes, I give him a report each time."

"Does he ask for it, or do you volunteer."

There was a pause; I knew the silence meant that Greg didn't ask. "Maggie, he'd never let himself ask, no matter how much he wanted to know. But, he listens when I tell him about you."

"It's okay. It's better than he doesn't ask about me. I need to let go Jim. He's my past and I desperately need a future."

"Would you prefer that I not contact you?"

I gasped, "Oh no! Jim, I really enjoy your company and it doesn't mean that I don't want to hear news about him. I just want to put a little distance between him and me. Once we're done with the Anthrax investigation, I plan on going back to Africa or maybe South America. If I'm in the USA, it's just too hard."

"That's pretty drastic, can't you find something in California or Atlanta?"

"I could, but it would mean that I'd only be a few hours away from him. I know it sounds stupid, but when I'm in Africa, I feel alive, independent, I don't miss the fact that there isn't someone for me to come home to."

Jim paused and then he spoke with a soft, very sympathetic voice, "I hope you find someone. You deserve it."

I chuckled, "Thanks, Jim. I've got to go. Bye."

"Bye."


	38. Chapter 18 Part III Olga Rules

**Maggie's Story**

**Chapter 18 Part III**

**Olga Rules**

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

That was the last time I heard from Jim while I was in Trenton. I don't know why he stopped calling, returning my calls or coming down to see me, but it didn't matter. I was once again thrown into my work and used it as a crutch to forget about my time with Greg. Unfortunately, in the dead of night, my work didn't keep me from dreaming of his touch as he lifted my pajama top or his mouth on my breast. I missed him. I even missed arguing with him.

I spent six months on the Anthrax cases. Eventually, dozens of people would spend years, but the need for my talent was over. At the conference we held on the six month anniversary of the first envelope being opened, I warned my superiors that there was a good chance we wouldn't find the person or persons responsible for the attacks. They refused to listen to me and I was promptly transferred temporarily to Atlanta, where I worked a desk, supervising field epidemiologists. I found myself a position as regional director in Peru and within a month, I was gratefully in Lima.

I held the position for three years before returning to Atlanta. In Peru I was happier than I had been in years. It was a Catholic country and seemed to understand my schizophrenic Catholic beliefs. The natives were just as schizophrenic, believing both in the Church and in Pachimama, the Earth Goddess. I felt right at home. I had a few mediocre relationships, but none lasted more than a few months. I really didn't want to move back to the USA, but my superiors were all being shuffled as a result of several retirements and one death. They needed me to take over as Director of Epidemiology in Atlanta.

I bought a house in Atlanta and spent a lot of time commuting back and forth to Philadelphia to see my growing nephew and niece. My brother's "businesses" was doing well. They lived in a huge house just outside of Philadelphia in Buck's County. My little home in Philadelphia needed some work, so I took out an equity loan and when the tenants moved out, I spent 50,000 renovating it. I doubled the rental price to 1600 a month. I was surprised when I rented it out within twenty-four hours to three Residents at Temple. They were quite chuffed to find out they were renting from me, claiming that they had been forced to read all of my papers in their Infectious Disease class at Temple. I was apparently a semi-celebrity at the medical school. They informed me that, at least once a month, one of my old professors brought up the fact that they had taught me.

Things were going well in Atlanta when I received a phone call in December from Dr. Cuddy.

"Maggie? This is Lisa Cuddy at Princeton-Plainsboro.:

My heart felt like it was having spasms, "Yes. Hi, Lisa. Is something wrong with Greg?"

"Oh! No, no. We have a problem here and I wanted to ask for your advice. We have an in-hospital infectious disease that's killed two babies in the last twenty-four hours."

"_Jesus!" _I took a deep breath, "Is Greg working the case?"

"It was House that discovered that there was a problem. He and his team are working hard on finding out what it is."

"Okay, I'll get clearance and come up right away. Send me what you have."

We hung up and I immediately called my superiors. No one wanted to go because they had each had a run in with Greg. It seemed that I was the most logical person to go. I flew up, rented a car and drove straight to the hospital. I felt sure that I was at a place in my life where I could deal with Greg and not get all girly.

Dr. Cuddy met me at the door, "Maggie, I'm sorry to drag you all the way up here. He's already solved the case."

I chuckled, "Did he know I was coming?"

She shook her head, "No. I didn't dare tell him the CDC was coming. He would have dropped everything and gone back to his office. He doesn't like interference."

"Well, I'm here. I need to document the outbreak and look over your decontamination procedures."

She nodded.

I spent four hours in the hospital on the Maternity Ward. By the time I came up for air, I was convinced that Greg was a genius. The outbreak was well documented, the lab results confirmed his brilliant diagnosis and the clean up was progressing in a manner I found acceptable. There was no need for me to stay. I called and discovered that if I ran, I could make the last flight back to Atlanta. I said my goodbyes to Lisa and rushed out of the hospital. As I was driving through the parking lot, a man with a cane was in the crosswalk. He didn't look at me, but I knew it was Greg. He looked older, as if the pain from his life was pulling him down. I wanted to jump out and grab him, but I was late and we had said goodbye so many times in the past, I didn't have the energy to say it again. Just as he cleared my car, he looked up as I drove past, our eyes locking. I lifted my hand and gave him a royal wave before driving out of sight. I don't know what he was thinking, but he didn't look surprised.

I got back to Atlanta and found an email waiting for me.

Dear Maggie,

Thank you for your prompt attention to our problem. I appreciate your calm approach to handling the outbreak. House said he saw you drive out of the parking lot and wondered if you were avoiding him. I told him that you had to catch a plane. He seemed somewhat disappointed to know that you had gone back to Atlanta. Maybe you should give him a call, I think he might like to hear from you.

Sincerely,

Lisa

_Sorry Lisa, but that's one itch I can't scratch again._

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I spent all of 2005 Greg-free. I didn't hear from or about him the entire year. I was now a Division Director for Infectious Diseases and chair of the Intragovernmental Committee of the Strategic National Stockpile as well as the CDC representative on the Executive Steering Committee of the National Interagency Biodefense Campus.

I missed being in the field, but I really enjoyed being close enough to fly home to Philadelphia to see my family. I was now thirty-seven and considered the spinster aunt. Tom O'Leary was married to a woman who had a young daughter. He seemed to be happy when I ran into him at a wedding reception. He had gray hair mixed with his blonde, a few wrinkles, but for the most part he looked the same. He had even managed to keep trim and fit. I hated him. I hated him for making me move my baby, but I didn't let it show. He and Jack had managed to become friends again, although not close friends. Jack still had hard feelings over what he did to Bridget and me.

In 2006, I had flown up to Philadelphia for the Memorial Day weekend and a big barbeque, complete with beef ribs and cheese steaks at my brother's house. Theresa and Luke picked me up at the airport Thursday afternoon. I put my stuff in their guest room and made my way downstairs where Theresa handed me a cranberry martini. We were kicking back, waiting for Jack to get home, when Theresa turned on the news. We continued to talk briefly while the television droned behind us.

_"…police are still looking for the man, described as approximately 5'9", going bald, but what hair he has is dark, he was seen leaving the hospital parking lot in a blue Chevy Malibu. He is considered armed and dangerous. If anyone thinks they recognize the man, please contact the Princeton Police Department immediately. Back to you Mark."_

I watched the bland looking news anchor looking sober, look at the monitor and ask, _"Jackie, is Dr. House expected to make a complete recovery?"_

My body went cold, sweat beaded up on my forehead.

"_He's currently in surgery at Princeton-Plainsboro. We understand he was shot once in the neck and once in the stomach. We don't have any further information. We should have more for you by the eleven o'clock news."_

I jumped up, my heart was pounding.

Theresa was bug-eyed, "Maggie, is that Greg they're talking about?"

"It has to be. Christ, someone finally shot him. Theresa, I have to get to Princeton."

"Sure, take Jack's car, it's in the garage. He has his truck, he won't miss it."

I ran upstairs, grabbed my purse, some underwear, my toothbrush and a shirt, threw them in a plastic bag and flew out the door. By driving at speeds I shouldn't have, I arrived at Princeton-Plainsboro Hospital within an hour. A dozen news cameras and journalists were hanging around the entrance and a couple of cop cars were still pulled up outside the front of the clinic. I went inside and showed my CDC identification to the cop who tried to stop me. He immediately let me through.

I peered into Cuddy's office, but she wasn't there. I ran up to the board and discovered that surgery was on the fourth floor. When I got off the elevator I spotted Jim in the hallway, leaning up against the wall. His head was down, deep in thought. He looked nervous, his fingers tapping behind him on the wall.

"Jim!"

He turned, looking anxious, "Maggie!" He jogged towards me, arms out, "I'm glad you're here."

I was breathless from all my hurrying, "Is he okay?"

Jim shrugged his shoulders, "The bullet nicked his carotid artery and his bowel. They're sewing him up now."

We just kept hugging. I saw several people in the waiting room, but I didn't see Cuddy. "Where's Lisa?"

"She's observing the surgery with the others. I couldn't. I don't know why."

I nodded. "I understand completely. If something went wrong with the operation I don't know what I'd…" I didn't even know it was coming, but I burst into tears, much to the surprise of everyone in the waiting room and Jim.

Jim stepped back, his hand still on my back, rubbing it, "Let's go down to my office."

We waited for word in Jim's office, sitting on his little sofa, my head on his shoulders my mind going over and over the things Greg and I had said and done to each other over the years, both good and bad. The phone rang half an hour later and we made a bee-line for recovery. Jim was holding my hand as we went through the doors. He recognized one of the surgeons who had worked on Greg.

"Tony, how is he?"

"He'll make it. We used the Ketamine like he asked. I wouldn't expect him to come out of it for another three or four hours though."

"Thanks." Jim said.

We went over and found him, mouth open, a unit of blood, saline and antibiotics running through the IV. He had a large bandage on his neck and one between his stomach and abdomen. I grabbed his hand and held it, bending down to kiss him on his forehead.

There were three other people in the cubicle, including Lisa. They all stared at me as tears continued to stream down my face.


	39. Chapter 19 Ketamine

**Chapter 19**

**Ketamine **

House woke up four hours later to find three women and Wilson standing or sitting by his bedside. He raised his head and looked around, his eyes landing on Maggie's face. He gave her a brief smile. His voice was raspy from the intubation during surgery, "Seems as if I only see you when something drastic happens. You're like the arbiter of disaster."

Maggie grabbed his free hand, "I'm beginning to think you do these things to get my attention"

He smiled, "You'd never come to see me if I didn't."

"Are you okay?" Maggie asked, her voice soft and worried.

"Do you have eyes? Of course I'm not alright." His voice was groggy and raspy.

"Does it hurt?" Cameron asked.

House shook his head then looked around at everyone, "Not yet. Thanks for coming, but can you all get out of here? I'd like to sleep."

There was a chuckle as the great Greg House dismissed them.

Wilson shook his head as he turned to leave, "He's going to be alright, he's already giving orders."

Everyone filed out, Maggie being the last.

"Mags?" House called out.

She turned, "Yes, Greg?"

"Can you stay?"

Maggie felt relieved, "Sure." She went over and took a chair next to his bed. "Do you want anything?"

"I just want to talk to you; it's been a long time. As you can see, I'm still as young and handsome as ever."

Maggie chuckled, "Yes, you are. You'll always look good to me."

"Maggie, I was really hard on you the last time we were together." His eyes, bright and blue searched her face.

"Yep." She chuckled and then looked down at her hands, not wanting to really remember what had happened.

"Sorry."

Maggie flinched, then grinned, "Sorry? Greg House is sorry? What's going on here?"

"We'll talk about it later; can you come back? I really am tired and want to sleep."

"Sure." Maggie got up, put her hand on his cheek and kissed his forehead. He gave her half a smile and then closed his eyes.

Maggie left House, knowing he'd probably go back to sleep for several hours. Driving back to Philadelphia, she quickly picked up the rest of her clothes before turning around and driving back to Princeton. She drove by House's apartment and parked the car. Searching for the old key she had from her last stay, she thought for sure that it wouldn't work, but it slipped easily into the knob, turned and the door unlatched. Maggie laughed out loud. He really did hate to change things.

She grabbed her bag and put it inside, looked around, remembering the last time she was there. Her chest felt like it was cramping under the weight of her sorrow and the stress of the events. As she got ready for bed, she couldn't resist picking up his toothbrush and looking at it, fingering the comb he used, checking out his bathroom cabinet. Before she laid down, she called the hospital and found that House was still asleep. Maggie hung up, shuffling back to the bedroom, slipped out of her clothes and crawled between the sheets. The smell of his body on the pillows and sheets triggered so many emotions. The thought that he might have died brought tears to her eyes. _I don't cry for years and here I am, in his bed, crying. _

Maggie got up, found her purse and then took out her rosary to calm herself. After praying, she decided that she needed to stop beating herself up. She loved Greg, she always would and that was okay. She led a happy life, one filled with dates, sex, men, friends, family; they all came and went. Maggie had expected more from life, a husband and children, but she had accepted that she would forever be the brilliant, but single, Maggie Malone, the mother of Bridget O'Leary, rest in peace. She fell asleep, sniffing his bed and dirty t-shirts, remembering the day he caught her in the act.

Maggie went back to the hospital the next morning only to find House's team standing around his bed, House reading a file. He barked out instructions and they ran off. Cameron kept watching Maggie. She saw Cameron stop and look back just as Maggie was giving House a kiss, brief but on the lips.

"Maggie, sit down."

Maggie started to sit laughing at him, "Is that an order?"

He frowned and shook his head, "I just want to talk to you."

"About what?"

"Stacy."

Maggie exhaled, the smile on her face dropped, "What about Stacy, Greg?"

"She's married. Did you know?"

Maggie shook her head, "No, I don't keep track of Stacy or you for that matter."

"I had an affair with her last year. She almost left her husband until I realized I couldn't make her happy. I wasn't willing to change to make her happy. Do you understand?"

Maggie shook her head again, "No, I don't Greg. Why are we telling me?"

He smiled, "I'm trying to say that it took awhile, but I'm finally okay without her."

"Oh, that's great. I'm glad you've healed." Maggie was still confused, unsure of where this was going and why.

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for making you the brunt of all my pain, both physical and mental."

Maggie was flabbergasted, wondering if this new Greg would last, "Thank you. Apology accepted."

They talked about the last few years for a few minutes until House was told he had to get out of bed and start walking to keep his lungs clear and his blood vessels clot free. Maggie excused herself and went down to get some food while the physical therapist walked him around.

When Maggie flew back to Atlanta on Monday, she felt confident that House would be okay. However, she had promised to fly up the next weekend and stay with him. He was getting out of the hospital on Wednesday, Wilson promising to stay Wednesday and Thursday. Maggie knew she shouldn't have offered to help take care of him, _again_. But, Wilson was truly concerned about House's health and Wilson had to leave Thursday afternoon to go to a conference where he was giving a paper. No one would be around to take care of House. Maggie flew up on Thursday, renting a car to drive from Philadelphia to his townhouse. She pulled out her key, slipped it in and opened the door, not bothering to knock. She found Stacy and House standing, staring at each other as if something had just happened between them.

Maggie flinched, "Oh! I'm sorry!" She hesitated, looking to House for instructions, "I left you a message that I was on my way."

"Maggie, it's okay. Come in. You remember Stacy?"

Stacy stepped forward, "Of course. Maggie how are you?"

"Fine." There was a pause, "I hear you're _married?" _Maggie emphasized the word married.

Stacy blushed, "Yes, I am. Five years next week. I just came down to see how Greg was and to wish him a Happy Birthday."

Maggie smiled and pretended to look around, "That's great. Where's your husband?"

Stacy blushed again, knowing exactly what Maggie was doing, "He's at home. I hear you never married?"

Now Maggie blushed, "No, never found anyone who would have me."

Stacy looked from Maggie to House, "I see you keep trying."

Maggie smiled, "Hope springs eternal."

House, who had been snickering, stepped forward, "Ladies, although I find the two of you pissing on the hydrant amusing, I'd like to show Maggie my new parlor trick."

Maggie smiled at Stacy and then nodded to House to go ahead. Her mouth dropped as House walked, with barely a limp, towards her.

"Greg? How did this happen?"

He sat down on the arm of the sofa, "Ketamine. It rebooted my pain circuits. I haven't had pain in my leg since the surgery. I still get tired, the leg needs strengthening, but I'm off of painkillers."

Maggie ran over and hugged him, he hugged her back, watching Stacy's reaction over Maggie's shoulder. Stacy stared at House and shook her head in disapproval. He grinned back.

"I'll get going now." Stacy picked up her purse and keys.

Maggie turned around, "I'll let you out."

"No, I can let myself out."

Maggie was tempted to tell her not to let the door hit her on the way out, but bit her tongue. When they were alone, Maggie put her fists on her hips, narrowed her eyes and started yelling at House, "You fool. What the hell were you doing?"

"Wha..? What do you think I was doing?"

"I think you were kissing her."

"Jealous?"

"No, but what was all this 'I'm over Stacy' about?"

"I was showing her my new trick and she grabbed me, thinking I was going to fall over. I admit, there was a moment between us, but no kiss."

Maggie knew House would have told her if they had kissed, rubbed it in.

"Well, how are you doing?"

He pulled Maggie's hand around to the sofa. They sat down together, "The pain in my gut is minimal, but I feel really weak and tired. The leg is better, but weak too."

"So how long are you going to get to recuperate?"

"Cuddy said six weeks, but I think I can stretch it out to eight."

Maggie put a hand over her eyes. House wasn't sure what she was doing so he pulled on her hand. She had tears in her eyes.

"What the…?"

"I'm so relieved that you're okay. I don't know why, but just sitting here, seeing that bandage over your carotid artery, it hit me. You could easily have been dead."

House sighed and scooted next to Maggie, put an arm around her and hugged her, "But I'm not. I'm going to be okay."

"I know. But what really bothers me is, why do I care so much?"

Greg squeezed shoulders, "Because I'm so damn good looking, it'd be a shame to waste it this beauty and talent on a bullet."

Maggie laughed. "I'm hungry."

"Take out?"

"Are you up for going out?"

House shook his head and frowned, "No, not tonight, but maybe tomorrow. I'm a little tired."

Maggie rubbed her eyes, "Then order some pizza."

He motioned to the kitchen and winked one of his blue eyes, "Phone number's on the frig, bring me a beer while you're in there."

Maggie rolled her eyes, but got up, ordered a pizza, grabbed two beers, and sat down, handing one to House. "Have they found the guy?"

"Nope."

"Did you know him?"

"He was the husband of a patient, Janet Moriarty. His wife committed suicide after finding out he had cheated on her."

"What has that got to do with you?"

"I thought she might have something passed on by someone he was sleeping with, so he confessed when I asked him if he was sleeping with someone. Turned out to be Lyme disease, nothing to do with his pecadillos."

"Oh. " Maggie leaned back on the couch. "I think I'd be pissed too."

"_And shoot me?"_

"Of course not, I'd just sneak in and put honey in your piano."

He started laughing, "I think I'd rather be shot."

They ate the pizza and watched some television, talking most of the time about Maggie's years in Peru.

Maggie came back from the bathroom, "I have a treat for your birthday."

He looked around, "Where?"

"I'm taking you somewhere."

"Where?"

She grinned, "I'm taking you down to Ocean City and we're going to go sailing!"

House pulled back, swinging his legs up onto the couch, "Sailing? You know how to sail?"

"I had a boyfriend who taught me. He lived on a sailboat in Atlanta and we went out almost every weekend."

"Boyfriend? _You had a boyfriend_?

She leaned forward, "I'm thirty-seven, not ninety-two. I still have a working vagina you know. Men still try to get me in the sack."

"This boyfriend, where is he now?"

"Ran off with an old flame when I was in California hunting down the first West Nile case."

"Went back to the old girlfriend?"

Maggie nodded.

"Ran off? Abandoned you?"

"You sound like you're taking great delight in the fact that he ran off on me."

"Misery loves company. You wouldn't be here if he was still around. But, Mags, I'm not up for sailing."

"Oh, not anytime soon. I have it scheduled for July 4th, so you have a few weeks to recuperate. I'll come up the weekend before the 4th and we'll have fun."

"You're going to stay for awhile aren't you?"

Maggie tilted her head and shook it, her short red hair flying as she did, "No, I can't. I'm working with the WHO on the Avian Flu protocols. I have to go back Sunday night."

He genuinely looked upset.

She chortled, "You didn't really expect me to stay did you?"

He shrugged, "Maybe."

"Greg, why don't you come down to Atlanta? Come visit?"

House wrinkled his nose, "I have physical therapy."

"I can arrange for a physical therapist. Come down for a week."

"Let's talk about it on Sunday." He smiled at her and tossed her hair with his fingers, "I'd like to see where you work."

Later that night, Maggie grabbed a blanket from the linen cupboard and a pillow of his bed.

House walked into the bedroom, "What are you doing?"

"Just getting the linens for the couch."

He screwed up his face, "You're sleeping on the couch?"

"I figure after what happened the last time, it's probably best that I bunk on the sofa."

He yawned, sitting on the bed to take off his socks, "I'm not going to jump you again; you'll be safe if you want to sleep in here. I can handle a couple of nights without hot, sweaty, sex. Not that I wouldn't be up for it, if you decided you needed to get your rocks off."

"Gee, I wouldn't want to put any strain on your sutures. Are you sure?"

"It's okay."

She put the linens away and climbed in bed on her usual side. Turning over on her side, she could see his profile on the pillow, a profile she'd recognize anywhere. "Greg?"

He turned his head and raised his eyebrows in return.

"Have you been seeing anyone?"

He snorted, "I date, but usually I just come home. Who knows, with my leg feeling better, it may signal a whole new me."

"I think Dr. Cameron would like that."

"Yeah, she's got this love-hate thing for me. Can't help it, I'm just a babe magnet. The young ones love me."

Maggie smiled at the joke, "Well, she sure gave me some dirty looks when she saw how familiar we were. But, she's pretty young."

"You were young when we hooked up."

"Yeah, there was a ten year difference…it's more like twenty with her. That can be a huge gap."

The weekend came and went; House was feeling better every day and was game for Atlanta. Maggie jumped up and down, shocked that he said yes. Jim had warned her that since his infarction, House had become a hermit, rarely going outside of Princeton unless it was related to his position at the hospital. But House promised to fly down the following weekend. Maggie was ecstatic, he'd finally get to see what she did for a living.

Maggie called him on Thursday to get the details of his flight, but he didn't respond. When Friday came and there was no House, she realized that he had either changed his mind or had never intended to come. Maggie waited another two weeks and on the evening of June 30th , the weekend before the fourth of July, flew up to Princeton.

Driving over, she tried to call, but no one picked up. Assuming that no one was home, she opened the front door to his apartment with her key., Maggie saw empty glasses, one with lipstick. She walked back to the bedroom, not sure she really wanted to see what was going on, but she figured that she needed to see it, needed to know just what an ass he was. She wasn't disappointed. A young, naked woman straddled a naked, undulating House, who was oblivious to the fact that Maggie was standing in the doorway. Maggie turned and went back to the living room. She grabbed the whiskey bottle and started drinking-- hard.

Half an hour later, the young woman got dressed in her short denim skirt, tight sweater and four inch heels, then made her way down the hall with a naked House limping behind, holding his open wallet.

He cleared his throat, "400 dollars?"

The woman saw Maggie sitting on the sofa. She turned to see if House saw her. He was still counting his money.

Confused and somewhat embarrassed, "Yeah, uh…400. I think you have a visitor."

House looked up and saw Maggie.

He rolled his eyes, "Crap."

The young woman left, counting her money. House walked back to the bathroom and disappeared while Maggie had another drink. He came out in his boxers and a t-shirt.

He motioned to her with his palm turned up, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I told you I was taking you sailing on July 4th. Remember? I told you I'd come up and make it a long weekend?" Maggie snorted and took a drink, "Sorry to put a cramp in your style. I show when I say I'm going to show."

He knew she was really complaining about his failure to show up in Atlanta, "Mags, if I had come down, what would I have done while you were working?"

"I had physical therapy all lined up, I was going to get off early, take you out in the afternoons."

She was starting to slur her words. "I had it all planned out, but you couldn't even give me the courtesy of a call."

"You're drunk. I can't talk to you when you're drunk."

"You get drunk and then maybe you can talk to me then. Here, I'll pour you one." She poured him a drink and slid it across the coffee table.

House walked over and sat down. He downed the drink in two gulps. Maggie poured him another. He downed it.

He looked at the floor and then her, "Maggie, I'm sorry you saw that."

Maggie looked at the amber liquid in her glass and chugged back half of it. House slowed down and started sipping.

"I'm not."

"You're not what?"

"I'm not sorry I saw it. It was pretty pathetic. A forty-seven year old man humping a twenty-something whore. It's probably the best relationship you'll ever have. Probably the most honest one you'll ever have. You'll know exactly what's expected of you." Maggie turned and looked him in the eye and grinned, "I needed to see that Greg. I've got to let go." She started nodding her head, "Yeah, I think I've let go." She stood up and grabbed her bag, weaving towards the door.

House reached out and grabbed her arm, "Where are you going? You're stinking drunk. You can't drive."

Maggie closed her eyes and shrugged her shoulders, "Fine, I'll walk."

He stood in front of the door. "Maggie, I'm not letting you go. You're too damn drunk."

"What do you care"? You don't love me…you love Stacy."

House snorted and snickered, "I don't love Stacy. And you're right; I don't care about you either. But, you do help me when I need it and, well, I can't let you get hurt. If you go out there drunk like this, you'll get hurt."

"Wow, that's such a compassionate speech." She crossed her arms. "I can't remember when I've heard so much compassion. Did you ever care?"

"Maggie, what we had was a long time ago. I stopped loving you a long time ago."

"Christ, you like to rub my nose in it don't you?"

"I need for you to understand it once and for all-- I don't love you Maggie."

She started crying and screaming, "_I know you don't love me! I heard you the first time!_ If you think that's the first time I've heard someone tell me they don't love me, well you'd be wrong. Let's see, since my husband told me that over and over and over, I've heard it…" She looked up at the ceiling, "Five times, no six times now that you've said it again. But I'm counting you twice, since you've told me twice now. And if that's not a big enough admission of what a failure I am, let's count the number of times I've failed at being a mother. I not only lost a child, I couldn't even save her. I'm a fucking doctor and I couldn't save my own child…no, no…wait, _I'm a fucking Infectious Disease Specialist and I couldn't save my daughter!_" Maggie was standing, wobbly on her feet. She lowered her voice, "I wanted you to come to Atlanta. I just wanted you to see that I matter, I matter. I wanted you to see that I may have lost our daughter, but I'm really not a second rate doctor. I might be a second rate wife, girlfriend, mother, but I'm a damn good doctor. I'm good at _one fucking thing_ in my life."

House closed his eyes, unable to face her pain, "Maggie, what's happened to you? Where's the Maggie that could kick ass and take numbers?"

Maggie sat down and nodded, "I do when I'm at my job…when I'm working, I'm happy, I'm confident, I'm me. I just can't get the rest of my life to work."

House walked over to her and held her; he understood exactly what she was saying. If she knew the truth, the truth about the way he felt, he wondered if it would make a difference. She would realize that he was the biggest loser.

"Maggie, stay here, at least tonight until you're sober. Okay?"

Maggie nodded, realizing that it was the logical thing to do. He took her back to the bedroom and decided that the sheets needed to be changed. "Mags, you go into the bathroom and get ready for bed, take some aspirin, you're going to need it."

She did as she was told while House changed the sheets. After she crawled in bed, House crawled in next to her, holding her while she went to sleep. House thought about the many nights he held her in his arms, praying he'd never sleep a night without her in them. She was his only regret. Well, maybe not his only regret, he also regretted giving Stacy his Power of Attorney.

He looked down at her, she hadn't changed that much. She still had the freckles all over her face and the slightly turned up nose. Her eyes had a few crow's feet and there was the mere hint of wrinkles around her forehead, but she was still the gorgeous Irish girl he fell in love with. He had this overwhelming urge to protect her, make her feel good again, let her know that if anyone mattered in his life, it was her. If anyone deserved love, it was the crazy redhead with the mean temper he held in his arms. He smiled. They couldn't spend two minutes together without tears or screaming, yet here he was wishing that sixteen years ago it would have been different.

_I should have married her. I loved her, she was pregnant. I could have had it all. What was I afraid of? Happiness? Maybe it's not too late. Maybe I'll tell her what I really feel, what I really want, not let her get away again. Tomorrow…tomorrow when we wake up, I'll tell her. _

Maggie slipped quietly out of bed in the morning, looking back at Greg House for the last time. She had decided that there would be no more rescues, no more emails, no more runs back to Princeton to take care of Greg House. It was time that she reinvented herself, left this part of her life behind. She picked up her bag and closed the door behind her.


	40. Chapter 20 The Greenhouse Effect

**Chapter 20**

**The Greenhouse Effect**

House sat at his desk the rest of the day reading journals. He'd read an article a few months ago on a new outbreak of Marburg in Angola, so he was trying to find it. House's patient had just returned from Angola the week before. He realized that he might just have a case of Marburg on his hand. He called Maggie.

Her perky voice, laughing, came on the line, "I don't believe it! They said Greg House was calling me. I figure the climate changes have finally taken effect. Hell has frozen over."

"Mags, Mags, Mags…you _know_ you love me. When are you going to come to your senses and get back in my bed?"

"When hell unthaws. Honey, that bed of yours is just too hot. If I could figure a way for us to get together without a nuclear event, I'd be up to Princeton before you could hobble your little ass home from the hospital."

House chuckled, but inside of him he felt pangs of longing, "I don't know; I hobble pretty fast."

"Well handsome, what can I do for you?"

"I want you to come up Maggie."

She turned serious, knowing he wasn't inviting her up for a rendezvous. "What is it Greg?"

"Marburg."

She gasped. "You are joking aren't you?"

"My patient is just back from Angola and they thought he had typhoid fever. He's got the rash and hepatitis."

He heard the pause and could imagine her thinking. He knew exactly what she was doing, her gray eyes flashing, her hand running through her reddish-blonde hair. She'd bite her lower lip and then sigh. Her blue-gray eyes would turn bluer. When he heard the sigh he smiled to himself. He knew she had come to a conclusion. "I have to send Ken up. I'm leaving for Europe the day after tomorrow. I'm taking a post in Switzerland. Sorry."

They were both sorry. She didn't think there was a reason to stay in the States, so when she was offered the post as European liaison with the WHO, she accepted it. Now he was calling. Maggie shook her head, once again, their timing was crap.

"Are you sure you don't want to come up to take care of this yourself?" he asked.

She knew he was really asking if she wanted to see him. She felt terribly sad, the last two years had been good for her, she had made it a point to banish all things Greg House from her life. She had packed up all photos and reminders and put them away in the attic. Then whenever she would start thinking of Greg House, she'd punish herself by doing pushups or learning a new song on the penny whistle. For awhile, she had great upper arm strength and new songs in her repertoire, but as the months whittled away and her thoughts of him decreased, so did her upper arm strength. Here he was, sending her signals that he wanted to see her. Everything she owned was on a ship headed towards Geneva, Switzerland. She was committed to going. "I can't. I'll send Ken." There was a pause, a heavy silence. "Greg, I'm so sorry." Her voice was heavy.

"No, I understand. Geneva, huh?"

"I'm going to be the WHO liaison from the CDC."

"How long?"

"One year, maybe more."

He snickered, "You know, someday we'll be in the same universe at the same time."

"I believe that would be like matter sharing the same space at the same time, the universe would implode."

"At least I'd go out with a smile on my face."

Maggie laughed heartily, "Yeah, it does have a certain appeal to it."

House got home that evening and crashed on his sofa with a glass of Maker's Mark. He tried to watch television, but he kept thinking about Maggie and her talented body. He wondered if it was still as talented. _God, I really miss her_. _The passion, the highs and lows of living with someone I didn't think I could live without._ He remembered her smell, it was the herbal shampoo that everyone used back then. He remembered the shampoo and the sex in the shower, how he'd wash her hair and then her body while he screwed her from behind. He was such a fool, just when he knew how much he wanted her, he let her slip away. He should have gone after her that morning, found her, brought her back, but then it took over again, all the self-doubts. Could he make her happy? Did he really deserve to be happy?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"There's no way. I'm not going to do it."

"You are going to do it and you know why?"

"Because you're der Fuhrer and you'll remove my testicles as part of your fertilization experiment?"

Cuddy laughed, "There is that to consider. But, it's in Oahu this year."

House stopped and considered. Did he really want to go to a sunny, beachside resort for a conference on Infectious Diseases? "I'll go if Wilson goes."

"I'm not paying for an oncologist to go to Oahu to hold your hand."

House sucked the last of the strawberry slushee out of the bottom of the cup, "But, he also performs surgeries and infection is always a concern after surgery."

Cuddy let out a sigh, "Okay, I'll let him go if you agree to give your paper on Chagas disease."

"Boring." House looked around, noting that there was nothing new for him to investigate.

Cuddy leaned forward, her blouse showing more cleavage as she did, "I don't give a damn, it's the only one you've published this year."

"That's why it's boring, been there, done that. But if you lean a little more my way, I might consider it."

"House, just prepare the damn presentation and I'll let your soul-mate go. Tell Wilson to come see me." She put down her pen and pushed back in her chair, "This might be good for him. He's been so distant since Amber died. You're lucky he finally forgave you."

House left with the brochure for the conference, which Cuddy had carefully turned to the page with beaches in order to entice him, and saw that it was being held at the Halekulani hotel. Not bad. He had heard it was one of the better hotels on Oahu. As soon as he got back to his office he grabbed Larry Kutner.

"You're going to prepare a presentation from this article." House shoved the journal into Kutner's chest.

Kutner wrinkled his brow and looked at the article. "Uh…okay." He went over to the table and took a seat to read through it.

Within an hour, Wilson and House were in the cafeteria making plans for the trip. They decided to stay two extra days and make it a small vacation. The conference was to begin on Wednesday evening with a "Welcome Cocktail Hour", complete with open bar, and finish on Saturday morning with a breakfast speaker. House saw that he wasn't listed as a speaker, but there was a paragraph stating that they would announce additional speakers at check-in. He also noted on the back that there was going to be a meeting Sunday morning for the committee members and liaisons of the National Center for Preparedness, Detection, and Control of Infectious Diseases (NCPDCID). House thought even the name sounded boring.

Turning the pages of the brochure, he revealed the guest speaker for Thursday night and grinned. Dr. Maggie Malone, MD MPH, CDC Director of Emerging Infectious Disease would give the keynote speech on Dobrava-Belgrade virus (DOBV). After reading her biography, House realized that Maggie had truly done exceptional work at the CDC. He knew she had done well for herself, but he didn't realize that she had managed to obtain a master's degree in public health. He kept reading:

_From 2004 to 2006, Dr. Malone chaired the Intragovernmental Committee of the Strategic National Stockpile and was the CDC representative on the Executive Steering Committee of the National Interagency Biodefense Campus. _

_She is widely published and has many scientific accomplishments to her name, including the authoring of over 150 scientific publications and book chapters on molecular epidemiology of infectious diseases. Dr. Malone has chaired, organized and presented as an invited lecturer at numerous scientific meetings worldwide. She is an associate editor for __Emerging Infectious Diseases__, a fellow of the American Academy of Microbiology, and associate member of the American Academy of Forensic Sciences._

_She has served as the Wachsman Foundation lecturer and received numerous awards for her contributions in the scientific and public health arenas, among them the Secretary of Health's Award for Distinguished Service to the World Trade Center and Anthrax Investigations Emergency Response Team._

_How did I miss all of this? How did I not know how accomplished she was?_ He read the publications, but they typically mentioned only that she was on some committee at the CDC. She did matter. Maggie was a rock star of public health. Chuckling to himself, he put the brochure in his back pack.

"What are you laughing about?" Wilson asked.

House shrugged his shoulders and snickered, "I've decided that I want to be a groupie. Don't groupies throw themselves at rock stars and sleep with them?"

Wilson nodded. "Who's the rock star?"

House evaded the question, "So are you going to Oahu?"

"I guess I am, at least according to Cuddy. She wants me to go along to change your diaper."

House went home and studied his brochure, including the floorplan of the hotel. He spent the entire night putting together documents for his plan while Kutner worked on his presentation. In the morning he went to the offices and spent some time in the print room, playing with the copier and printers. He put the finished product in his briefcase and grinned.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Maggie zipped the suitcase shut, wondering if she should have packed the larger one. Between the beach clothes, the work clothes and the casual clothes, she filled the 22 inch case full.

"I doubt you're going to get much more in there darling."

Maggie turned and looked at Conor, "Have you got any room in your suitcase?"

He grabbed Maggie in his arms, "Are you trying to hog some of my room?"

"Mmm, not exactly right now…but if we buy any souvenirs?"

"Maybe we can negotiate."

She looked at him coyly, "I don't know, what do I have that you want?"

"Hmmm, I can think of lots of things." He bent down and kissed Maggie gently on her lips. "How many pairs of socks did you pack me?"

"Six…all white." She giggled, "Three black, two brown, one white."

"You're good…very good."

"I'm not looking forward to the airplane trip. Thank God we have a weekend layover in Philadelphia. You'll finally get to meet my brother and his family."

"I'm looking forward to it."

"It will give me a little time to see what dates the church has available. Are you sure you have all of January available?"

"If I don't, I'll _make _it available."

She laughed and hugged him, pushing back a strand of his hair as it fell over his eyes. He opened his mouth slightly and bent down to kiss her.

They arrived in Philadelphia where Conor and Maggie were picked up by Jack, who was now completely gray, wrinkled with just the slightest of bulge around his tummy. He eyed the 5'11" Conor and was impressed with how fit he was. Maggie had said that he was a few years younger than her and had graduated from Trinity College, Dublin Med School.

"So, Conor, where were you born? Jack asked.

"Just outside Dublin, in the Wicklow Mountains."

Jack nodded, "You live in Geneva now?"

"For now. I work for WHO and I've been assigned to the same committee as Maggie."

"Have you ever been married before?"

"Jack! My God, this isn't twenty questions." Maggie grimaced.

Conor laughed and patted her shoulder, "It's alright Maggie, Jack's just looking out for you. I don't mind. No, Jack, I've never been married, came close once, but I met Maggie and couldn't stop thinking about her."

Jack's face dropped as he gave Maggie a sideways glance. Maggie knew he'd be upset that Maggie had broken up a relationship.

"How long were you in the relationship?"

"Six years."

Maggie knew what was coming, but she gave Jack a look that told him to keep it to himself. When Conor went in to take a shower, she got hit from both sides.

Jack hissed at Maggie, "You broke up his relationship with his girlfriend of six years?"

"It wasn't like I _set out_ to do it! We ended up spending a lot of time together on the committee and it just happened."

"Maggie, shame on you, girl." Jack shook his head in disappointment.

"My God, Jack. Just let it go. We're both adults and we know what we want."

"Well, when are you two getting married?" Theresa asked.

"January, it depends on the availability of the church. I need to talk to Father Martin tomorrow."

Theresa hugged her, "I'm so happy for you Maggie. Do you plan on having kids?"

Maggie nodded, "We plan on at least one, hopefully two."

Later that afternoon, Theresa indicated that they needed a few things from the store, so Theresa and Maggie hopped in the car to make a run to Piggly Wiggly. Theresa wanted the 411.

"Alright Mags, what about Greg?"

Maggie laughed, "What about him?"

Theresa's lovely hazel eyes narrowed, "Oh, come on. You run to his side every time he has a nose bleed. Have you told him?"


	41. Chapter 21 Nice Day for a White Wedding

**Chapter 21**

**Nice Day for a White Wedding Day**

Had I told him? I hadn't had any contact with Greg in the last year, not an email, not a phone call, not even a message passed on to me by someone else. It had been a great year. I loved Geneva; it was vibrant, clean and _didn't have mosquitoes_! I spent most of my time trying to convince various countries to allow us to "help" them. In other words, not hide cases of Avian flu so that we could track it better. It was getting harder and harder to track cases through Indonesia and Africa because of the devastation it was causing to the chicken population and food shortages. I was flying all over Asia and African issues with reporting flue cases. Families don't want to report sick chickens because the government usually kills them, often without compensating the families. As a result of this issue, I had managed to raise millions of dollars from various western countries to pay families for their dead poultry. It was my job to give the countries what they needed in return for their accurate reporting of cases. It was frustrating, exciting and I enjoyed it immensely.

So, no, I hadn't told Greg and hadn't really thought about him throughout the year. Oh, I had my moments, on his birthday, on days when I heard songs that were popular in the early nineties. But, each week that I spent more and more time with Conor, I thought less and less about Greg.

"I haven't seen or heard from him since I left for Geneva. And I don't really think I need to say anything to him, he's out of my life. I'll probably never see him again. I'm being reassigned to London with Conor. WHO made me a very generous offer. I hate to leave the CDC, but I'll be getting a nice promotion with a larger paycheck."

"Are you above Conor on the totem pole?"

I nodded, "Yeah, if he were going to be in the same department, I'd be his boss. But he's going to be heading up the bioterrorism task force. I'll be director of the Non-NATO Country Infectious Disease Department."

"How are you going to even have time to get pregnant?"

I smiled, "Practice, practice, practice. We aren't using birth control."

Theresa shuddered with delight, "How long?"

I could feel my face grinning in anticipation, "Four months now. But, it usually takes longer as you get older."

"Well, we know you can get pregnant, so we just have to be patient."

I looked out the window and took a deep breath, "I need to go by Bridget's grave tomorrow."

"Of course, we thought you would. Jack wants to go out with you."

I nodded and smiled. Jack always went with me. He had loved Bridget like his own and it was Jack who went out every few months to clean her grave and take her flowers. The next day we spent an hour cleaning her grave and talking to her. I always felt better after I saw her. Oh, it was hard, it always made me cry. But, it was as if I had reconnected with a part of me that I missed.

We spent four days in Philadelphia, making arrangements for the wedding and visiting. A marital relations course was required by the parish, but Jack got Father Martin to waive it, supposedly because of our ages and the fact we were both Catholic, but I think it was because I was Maggie Malone. Conor and I figured we would have maybe 80 guests, including about twenty of his family and friends from Ireland. This time I was inviting mostly family, very few friends. We stopped in a stationary store and looked at invitations. I was surprised to find that Conor had strong opinions about what they should look like while I could care less.

Conor was Catholic too, so there were no promises that had to be made that we would raise our kids Catholic. We already knew we would…that is, if I could get pregnant. I was a little concerned. We had a healthy sex life and I wasn't pregnant yet. It worried me, but not Conor. He reminded me that it takes a 40 year old much longer to get pregnant and that I was under a tremendous amount of stress, which was true.

The weekend went well and I got the thumbs up from Jack and Theresa. Luke especially enjoyed playing soccer with Conor, exclaiming that he had a great kick. As we were just about to go through security at the airport, Theresa said, "You've hit the jackpot Maggie. Irish, younger, handsome, doctor and Catholic. What's there not to like?"

I always flinched when someone said something like that because a part of me kept thinking that something was missing. I wasn't getting any younger and if I wanted a chance at marriage and children, this was it. It wasn't as if I didn't love Conor, I did. But, it wasn't the same feeling like I had experienced with Greg. Not that it was less, it was just different, not quite as passionate. I didn't cry all the time around Conor, which should have been a plus, but it just drove home the fact that my feelings weren't the same for him.

We left Wednesday for Oahu and ended up at the Halekulani at four in the afternoon, two hours before the welcome cocktail reception. Our room was a junior ocean front suite paid for by the sponsors of the conference as part of my perks for being the keynote speaker. The floor was a gorgeous embossed, beige wool carpet with a king size bed. You could listen to the quiet lapping of the waves and feel the warm ocean breeze through the two sliding doors that opened up to the two lanais overlooking the ocean. There was a bedroom/sitting area, wet-bar and entertainment center. The suite was breathtaking.

Conor showered and put on a Hawaiian shirt, khakis and sandals, making him look a little like Robert Redford with his strawberry blonde hair, blue eyes and freckles. People often asked if we were brother and sister, which bugged him a lot. I didn't care.

I showered, dried my very short hair and put on a halter floral dress that probably revealed too much in the front. Adding my white, two inch strappy shoes, some light makeup with red lipstick, I was ready for my debut. Conor whistled when I walked through the suite.

"Let's just stay in and shag?"

I wagged a finger at him, "Later dear, I really do have to make an appearance."

We snuggled and kissed all the way down in the elevator. When the door opened we made our way to the tiki torch courtyard where the cocktails were being served. We checked in and received our badges that we both put on. I made my way out and immediately saw a dozen or more doctors that I knew. We stopped and grabbed some cocktails, continuing to wave at people we knew.

"Darling, there's David Beeson over there, I'm going to go say hello." Conor kissed me on the cheek and left.

There were over 75 people there already and I felt like I was being watched, although, when I looked around, I saw no one staring. I walked over to look at one of the gardenias, bending over to smell it, when I heard a familiar voice.

"I always did like that pose the best, Mags."

I almost peed my pants at the sound of my name from his lips. A chill started in my neck and traveled at the speed of light down my spine. I closed my eyes, hoping when I opened them, he'd be gone. I opened them and he was standing in front of me in a blue Hawaiian shirt, beige shorts, sandals and a whangee cane.

"Hello, Maggie."

"Hello, Greg."

He bent down and planted a kiss directly on my cheek, close to my ear.

"Greg, what are you doing here?"

He looked around, "Presentation. Cuddy wanted me to give a presentation."

Between the warm night air, humidity, and meeting Greg, my whole body broke out into a thin film of sweat.

"How have you been?" I looked in those eyes and my heart raced.

Greg reached up and touched my cheek. I thought he might kiss me, but he didn't, "I've been fine. Thinking a lot about you."

I was starting to get annoyed. Was he trying to play me? "Hmm, I haven't thought about you in a long time. I felt hands come up around my waist and saw Greg's eyes make contact with someone behind me. I turned and saw Conor smiling at Greg.

"Hello, I'm Conor O'Toole, Maggie's fiancé."

I saw Greg's eyes flash and his face tighten into that famous scowl he gets when he encounters something unpleasant.

"Did you say tool? That you were a tool?"

Conor took it in stride, "O'Toole. And you are?"

I stepped in, "This is Greg House."

"Greg House? I've heard about you Dr. House, you have quite a reputation."

House gave a patronizing smile, "Sorry I can't say the same about you, you obviously have no reputation."

I rolled my eyes and Conor looked at me for an explanation of who this man was and why I was still talking to such an asshole. Luckily, Jim came up, looking handsome in his Yellow and green Hawaiian shirt.

"Maggie!" He hugged me and gave me a kiss on the cheek, "I'm so glad we ran into you tonight."

"Jim Wilson, I'd like you to meet my fiancé, Conor O'Toole."

The words escaped from Jim's mouth before he even realized it, "Oh no." He shook his head and blushed, then stuck out his hand to shake Conor's, "I'm sorry, I meant, congratulations. How did you two meet?"

I watched Greg stare at Conor like he stared at the blackboard at the hospital the night we diagnosed the patient. He piped up, "Yes, how did you meet?"

"We're both stationed with WHO in Geneva. We're on several committees together." I said.

Jim smiled again, "Well, you're a very lucky man. Maggie's a very nice person, a good friend. When is the wedding?"

"January 17th, in Philadelphia. Why don't you come Jim?" I was genuinely excited at the thought of Jim coming.

House smiled mischievously, "Am I invited?"

I was about to say 'no' when I was shocked by Conor's heartfelt, "Of course!"

Greg grinned. I noticed just how many wrinkles he had and how gray his hair was, including the tuft that barely showed under his shirt. But, he was sexy. There was something almost overwhelming about how sexy the man was.

Conor smiled at me, but I knew that smile, he didn't like Greg, "Maggie, how do you know Greg?"

The grin on Greg's face got even wider, "Yes, Maggie, tell Conor how you met me."

I gave Greg a look that told him just how displeased I was with his cat and mouse behavior. "It's a very boring story. Greg rented a room from me when he did a residency in Nephrology."

"Oh, Maggie. Come on, come clean with him. Tell him everything." Greg baited me.

I felt my entire body blush. I was glad that the courtyard was lit by torches and low lighting. I hesitated and Greg jumped in.

"I also tutored her in med school. She used to come down to the hospital and we'd go over her texts."

I took a breath.

"Maggie needed tutoring?" Conor was obviously surprised.

I shrugged my shoulders, "I was working in the bar and going to med school at the same time. It was rough."

"You worked in med school? You didn't tell me that! Wow, I'm even more impressed." He bent down and gave me a peck on the lips.

"Well, nice to see you Jim, Greg. We need to mingle, but I have_ no doubt_ that we'll see you later." I waved goodbye.

"_No doubt."_ Greg emphasized.

It was very warm outside, but I shivered.

As we walked away, Conor put an arm around, "Alright lass, what was that about?"

I sighed, "I used to date…no, I need to tell you everything because Greg is a force to be reckoned with and he's going to make his presence known while I'm here. Greg and I lived together, as in shacked up, for almost a year. I was 22 and he was 31. We broke up and I married Tom. Greg doesn't like it when he finds me with someone else, even though there's nothing between us now."

I could see Conor was disappointed. He always brushed his lips with his hand when he's upset with me and he was doing a lot of lip brushing, "Why didn't you tell me Maggie? If it's over, why would you think I would care? I have to tell you, it's hard for me to think of you with Greg House, especially from what I've heard about him."

I sighed. "Conor, he's brilliant and conniving and wicked. Everyone in the medical field thinks Greg is the spawn of Satan. When anyone finds out that I lived with him, they look at me as if I'm Nicole Brown. The truth is that when Greg loves someone, he can be a teddy bear. I never had a problem …well, I can't say that…he rarely treated me badly. Not like you'd think he would."

"Why did you break up?"

"Three issues, he's not Catholic; he doesn't want children; and, he never wants to get married."

"Those are good reasons."

I nodded.

"But, you must have loved him if you lived with him."

"Yes, but I lived with him eighteen years ago."

He kissed the top of my head and we went back into the crowd. Every time I looked over at Greg, he was watching me. I wanted to flip him off, but couldn't for obvious reasons. Eventually the painful evening was over and we went to bed. We were both exhausted from the traveling and the alcohol so we didn't bother to try and make a baby.

I woke up the next morning feeling better. I showered and then tried to wake Conor who moaned, open and eyed and grimaced, "I'm going to miss the breakfast speaker, I need to lie-in. See you later."

I wasn't happy; it meant I'd be a lone target for Greg. But, I didn't want Conor to know that. "Okay, but don't be too long."

He grunted.

I went downstairs and got in line for the buffet. The great thing about private medical conventions (as opposed to the public health ones sponsored by governments) is that they feed the doctors well. They want you to come back and pay the big bucks for their seminars. So there's no blueberry muffin with a boring cup of coffee. No, we get a full spread.

As I reached for the Eggs Benedict, I felt a tickling on my neck. I knew it was Greg. I turned to look up into his mischievous blue eyes. He was carrying a plate and had breathed on my neck as he bent over, supposedly studying the different eggs being offered under the plexiglass hood.

"Oh! It's you." He pretended to just notice me, "Hey, can you help me? I need someone to carry my coffee for me back to the table." He said, a cheery smile spread across his mouth.

I sighed, "I guess."

At the end of the line, we poured our coffees and I took the two cups in one hand, my plate in the other. Now, I had seen Greg balance his own plate and coffee before, so I knew this was a ruse. But, I knew he'd start talking loudly, complaining so that everyone could hear that I wasn't helping him, if I refused. I did it to avoid a scene. After all, I was a the keynote speaker and didn't want to look like a complete jerk or idiot and Greg could certainly give people that impression.

We started walking towards the tables, but he was behind me. I turned, "Which seat is yours?"

"Wherever you're going to sit."

I looked at him soberly, "Greg, I'm not going to play games with you. I think you better sit at your own table.

He cocked his head, "Are you so insecure in your relationship with Tool that you can't even have breakfast with an old friend?"

"You _know_ why. You aren't just a friend; you're a nuclear holocaust ready to happen."

"Mags, Mags, Mags. Come on, it's just me, your favorite muff diver."

People looked up and I snapped, "Greg! Shhhh."

"Then find us a quiet table."

I took us over to the far corner and sat down. He sat next to me.

I tried to ignore him, looking around the conference room for people I knew, waving occasionally. He stared at me with this big goofy grin.

I couldn't take it, "_What?"_

He pulled his head back, "Whoa…testy, aren't we?"

"Greg, either say what you have to say or shut up."

"Where did Tool go to school?

"It's O'Toole, _but you know that_, and he went to Trinity in Dublin. Didn't you notice the Irish accent?"

"I thought he was faking it."

"You did not."

"Maggie, why do you want to marry a Tool?"

"Maybe because…_I love him!_"

"Maybe? Maybe what? You love him or maybe you don't love him? Which is it?"

I yelled, causing people to look up, "_I love him!" _I lowered my voice, "And maybe because he wants marriage and babies. Oh, and he's a Catholic."

Greg pretended to shudder, "Ewww, three strikes against him. Tom was all those things too. There's something about Conor, something he's hiding."

I sneered, bearing my teeth, "And you know this after meeting him for five minutes?"

Two more doctors sat at our table, which seated ten. Greg looked at me with mock horror and with a voice that could be heard tables away, "Maggie, the sex between us was good, but I'm just not into nipple clamps."

I jumped up and stomped out the door of the room. The entire room was staring at me as if I was some pervert. I slammed right into Jim.

"Maggie! What's wrong, you look livid." He grimaced, "Oh, wait, House?"

I nodded, "He just made a remark involving sexual deviations about me, loud enough to be heard all over the room."

Jim raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips, "Maggie, that's just his way of telling you he cares. He's a ten year old dipping your braids in the ink to get your attention."

"Attention? He wants this attention? I feel nothing but disgust. He's a manipulative SOB."

Jim shrugged his shoulder, "And you've known that for almost twenty years, what's new?"

"You're right." I looked over his shoulder and saw Greg coming. "Here he comes. I'm going to my first seminar. See you."

I took off like a bat out of hell. If I had listened to what was going on inside of me, I would have realized I was running from myself. I should have stood my ground and confronted him. Made him realize that he was just enjoying the chase and the fact that he could make me miserable, but no, I played his game, his way, and ran.


	42. Chapter 22 Shooting Ducks

**Dear Readers, I'm sorry that I haven't been updating as often, but because I've been so busy with my birthday and going on vacation soon, I forget to post until I get an email with a review. Sorry! I'm posting stories in three places and when a review shows up in my email, it triggers my memory! LOL**

**Chapter 22**

**Shooting Ducks**

House chuckled to himself as he watched her run out of the room, leaving most of her breakfast on her plate. He finished his meal, drank his coffee and realized he had a whole day ahead to put his plan into action. The problem was that Tool wasn't with her. Was he still in the room?

House went back to his room, played with his laptop, transferred the data to a USB memory stick and took it to the business center. He suspected that Tool was out of the room by now, so House made his way up to her room which he had gotten from the Convention center by telling the woman on the phone that he, Dr. House, had to coordinate his presentation with Dr. Malone, and needed to contact her. What room was she in? 412 was the answer.

House went to the desk, "I lost my card, Dr. Coner O'Toole, room 412."

"Just a minute doctor. We don't have a room under your name."

"No, it's under my fiancé's name, Dr. Maggie Malone."

The clerk played with the computer. "Dr. O'Toole, I have a security question to ask you. What's Dr. Malone's birthdate?"

"July 20th 1968."

The clerk nodded and handed him the card. House smiled secretly to himself. He had the key to the kingdom.

He asked the middle-aged woman behind the counter, "I need to go to a drug store, where's the nearest one?"

"About three blocks from here. Our shuttle driver can take you Dr. O'Toole."

"Great, I'd like to go now."

The van driver came around to the front of the hotel and carted House to the nearest Walgreens. House instructed him to wait, he'd be right out. Limping through the aisles as fast as he could, he collected the things he'd need. As they traveled back to the hotel, House went through the schedule in his head. Tonight they were all going to the Comedy Club, Friday Maggie was on a panel at 9:00 am and the big dance was Friday night. Saturday was the final morning seminar and an optional afternoon tour of the island. Sunday was the Public Health meeting in San Francisco that Maggie was probably attending. Her keynote speech was today at lunch. He would just have to miss it; he had a lot to do. House hadn't felt this _alive_ in a long time.

When he entered the hotel room, he looked around gobsmacked by the gorgeous view she had. When they were together, Maggie always slept on the left side of the bed. He could see her earrings on the left night stand and a book on Roman emperors. Maggie was a Roman history buff, so he was pretty safe in assuming she was sleeping on the left as usual. That made his life easier. He took the chocolate mint from the right pillow and carefully extracted it from the wrapper. Pulling out the Ex-lax, extra strength, he wrapped it back into the wrapper. If Conor was like most men, he'd pop the entire piece in his mouth without even looking. He had to pray that Conor didn't give it to Maggie. He put it on the pillow and popped the real mint in his mouth. He then switched out the lightbulb on the right night stand with a 25 Watt bulb and smiled. It was added insurance that would make it hard for Conor to tell the difference between the Ex-lax and the mint.

Moving on to the bathroom, House looked around to size up the bath products. Maggie was obviously using the little hotel Aveda products. When they met, House could smell Conor's cologne and hair product; it was Armani. Just as he suspected, there sat a bottle of Armani Emporio shampoo and conditioner for men in the shower. House took out the dropper and slipped the liquid into the plastic bottle. The smell from the bottle of Nair was strong; House hoped that the Emporio would mask it. He extracted the white cream out of the plastic bottle and put it into the Emporio conditioner, shaking it up as he did. Once again he smiled to himself.

Before he left, he grabbed a pair of Maggie's satin bikini underwear from her suitcase, rubbed them on his cheek and put them in his pocket as a souvenir. The desk drawer was full of stationary. House took an envelope from the drawer, used his left hand to write the room number on the front on the envelope, put the folded paper inside of it and then closed the door to the room, slipping the envelope under the door. He walked down the corridor whistling and twirling his cane as he waited for the elevator.

It was the end of Maggie's presentation and when she saw House saunter in, just as she was finishing, she felt deflated and pissed. She had wanted him to see her in action. She had made the presentation informative, funny and above all, interesting. Now she realized that he hadn't been in the audience during the presentation. When it was over, the clapping went on for a long time and Maggie nodded to the audience in appreciation. Afterwards, she spent another fifteen minutes handling questions from people who lingered at the front to talk to her. Maggie occasionally glanced at House, who had taken a seat next to Conor and was engaged in a conversation with him. House got up, hobbled back to the coffee table and retrieved two cups of coffee, giving one to Conor. They sat down and talked some more while Maggie picked up her things. House left just as Maggie started over to the table.

"What was that about?"

Conor looked at Maggie and shrugged, "He wanted me to tell you that he was sorry that he missed your presentation, but he's been sick all morning with diarrhea. Then we talked about where I worked before the WHO. It was actually a pleasant conversation, we shared some chocolate and a strong expresso."

"_You had a pleasant conversation with Greg House?"_

Conor laughed, "Don't sound so surprised; I can be charming too."

Maggie didn't say it, but she knew Greg too well and he didn't have pleasant conversations unless he really liked you or he wanted something. Maggie bit her lip and tried to smile at Conor. They went back to the room so that Maggie could put her computer away.

When they got into the room she saw the envelope on the floor. She opened it and discovered a note from the seminar organizers. Printed on it was an amended itinerary indicating that the room for her panel in the morning had been overbooked and they were holding the panel at the adjacent hotel, The Wyndham Waikiki Beach Walk hotel. It said that a golf cart would be waiting for her at 8:30 am to take her to the meeting room.

Maggie smiled, "Oh look! The mints are here already. If I remember, you took mine last night, so I get yours." She started to reach over for his too.

Conor grabbed her arm, "Ah, ah. You said you didn't want yours…now eat your own. He grabbed the one from his side and palmed it, while she tried to get it from him. He quickly popped it in his mouth and ate it.

"Ugh, this one doesn't taste as good as the ones last night."

Maggie chewed her, "Mine tastes good."

"Well, it's almost two, are you going to my presentation?" Conor asked.

She scowled, "Oh, honey. I've heard it a dozen times. Remember, you practiced it on me for three weeks straight. I was hoping to go to Greg's Chagas presentation. As much as everyone hates him, it will probably be empty and I can get in a lot of questions. You know Chagas is becoming a real problem and we need to pay more attention to it."

Conor sneered, "Are you sure you just don't want to go flirt with your old boyfriend?"

She could tell he was teasing, "Oh man, you caught me. I wanted to see if we could do a little snogging behind the podium."

Conor pulled her into his arms and sighed, "As long as it's not shagging."

Maggie pretended to snap her fingers, "Damn it." She turned, looking out the window at the sand, talk King palms and azure water, "My God, it's beautiful out there, isn't it?"

Conor nodded.

They stood holding each other for a few more minutes and then Maggie pulled back and asked, "Do you think Greg's seminar will be crowded?"

"Well, we have the large room. He's got one of the conference rooms, so they must not be anticipating many people."

"Well, I better get down there. See you later."

He held her fingertips, "I love you."

"You too, honey."

Maggie caught the elevator downstairs and found her way to the Kalia room which seats 50 people. She was shocked to find that people were spilling out into the lanai and courtyard.

"What room are you trying to get into? She asked a group of doctors standing nearby.

A young doctor with a beard looked at her, "House's lecture."

"_Greg House? People are lining up to get into Greg House's lecture?"_

He knitted his brow, amused at her shock, "Uh, yeah. We're all trying to get into his lecture."

Maggie looked extremely surprised, "Why?"

"Everyone wants to get to see House in action. I just want to see what he looks like."

Another doctor, a brunette woman, added, "He's the rock star of medicine. The Ozzie Osborne of lecturers. The stoner genius. Who doesn't want to get into his lecture? We've got bets on who gets called a moron first. If we get him to pick on one of us we win a separate pool."

A voice somewhere at the front of the crowd yelled, "Ladies and Gentlemen, if you could wait a few minutes, we're going to open the partition between the adjacent room and expand the seating capacity."

Maggie shook her head and made her way through the crowd. Since most of the people knew her from the keynote speech, they parted and let her through. She saw Greg sitting on a stool waiting for the partition to be removed. When he looked up and saw Maggie, a genuine smile broke out across his lips. Maggie couldn't resist, she smiled back.

"Mags, you are looking gorgeous as usual." He gave her an appreciative inspection.

Cocking her head to the side, she narrowed her eyes, "What do you want?"

"Hey, I'm just sitting here. I should be asking what you want?"

"I just wanted to get a front row seat and I thought maybe the speaker could get me one."

House wiggled his eyebrows, "Maybe. Are you going tonight?"

"To the Comedy Club? Yeah, we're going tonight, why?"

He sucked his soda through the straw. "I want you and Conor to sit at the table with Wilson and me."

"Conor? You called him Conor?"

He pulled his head back and smiled, "It is Conor isn't it? Or do you prefer Tool?"

"Conor! Okay, get me a seat up front and we'll sit with you tonight at the Comedy Club."

House stood up and patted the stool, "All yours Mags." Walking to the front by the computer, House barked, "_Shut up!"_ The stunned crowd went silent. "Okay, if you ask a moronic question, you get to take the dunce stool at the front. The one Mags Malone is sitting on. She'd like to get to get off it, she's been a dunce for twenty years." There was laughter. Maggie laughed too. "I would know, I had to tutor her in med school."

Maggie looked at the ceiling and shook her head without saying anything. There was chuckling through the audience.

House started the lecture, calling four questions and the people who asked them, idiotic or moronic. Several high fives passed through the audience and money exchanged hands. House ignored it. But Maggie was now sitting in the audience, having been replaced four times over with morons. She felt her cell phone vibrate. Pulling it from her pocket, she saw it was from Conor. She jumped up and went outside.

"Hello honey."

"Mags, I'm up in the room. I don't feel well. I must have eaten something bad because I've got diarrhea. It's pretty bad. I think I'll stay in tonight."

"Oh. Well, I'll stay with you and we'll watch tv."

"You love comedy shows. Nah, you go and have some fun."

"Well, I'll be up to get dressed anyway. I'll see you in a few minutes."

Maggie walked back in and saw that the presentation was over. Two dozen people stood around House trying to ask questions while he put his laptop away.

He waved his hand at them, "What about 'that's the end of the presentation' did you morons not understand? Get, go find someone who's flattered that practicing doctors can't do their own research. Shoo, shoo!"

Maggie turned to go.

"Mags! Don't you go, you may be a moron, but you're a pretty moron." House hurried over to Maggie.

She turned and waited for him. As they walked, Maggie turned her sad eyes to him, "I'm sorry Greg, but Conor is sick and I should probably stay in with him."

House forgot that Maggie always like to play Florence Nightingale. "Ah, I knew you'd come up with an excuse. Or did he, he just didn't want you around me. He must really be worried about our connection."

Maggie shook her head violently, "No, he's not. He even told me to go ahead."

"But you'd feel guilty being with me if he wasn't around. You don't trust yourself around me."

Maggie was defensive. "You are so smug. You think you're irresistible. I'm over you Greg. Okay, I'll come with you tonight if Conor says he feels comfortable with it."

"Father may I go out and play with Greg?"

She nodded, "Yeah, something like that." Maggie returned to the room and saw that Conor was in the bathroom. She knocked on the door. "Conor, you okay?"

"Maggie, don't come in. I'm okay, it's just not very pleasant in here. I put your makeup and brush out there. Sorry, honey."

"Look, Greg invited me to sit at his table with Wilson. I said I had to check with you." She heard some grunting, "Conor?"

"Honey, do what you want. He's a jerk, right?" There was a pause, "I'm not worried about him."

"Okay, are you sure you don't want me to stay and pass you notes under the door or buy some air deodorizer?"

"Ha,ha…no, you go and have fun for both of us."

Maggie put on some makeup, changed into a sky blue halter dress and sandals, grabbed her yellow shawl and was out the door. She went downstairs to wait with everyone else for the busses to take them to the Comedy Club. Maggie started to climb on the bus, but felt a hand on her elbow, pulling her back. She turned and saw a sober faced House.

"Come on Mags, I've rented us a car to take us."

"Okay." She got off and went with House. A man opened the door to a limousine and she crawled inside, House behind him. "A limo?"

"You're complaining?"

She chuckled, "No, it's just overkill, don't you think? Where's Jim?"

"His girlfriend flew in this afternoon and she's digesting his balls."

"Huh?"

House shrugged his shoulders, "Let's just say she's manipulative, cynical, and willing to do whatever it takes to get what she wants."

She looked sideways at him, "Greg, that sounds like you."

"Precisely what I told Wilson. Unfortunately, it just made her all that more attractive to him. He used to like needy women, now, after dating one that went and died on him, he likes take-no-prisoner women. This is his third."

Maggie got the giggles and couldn't stop. "Jim's dating the female version of you?"

"Yes, but I'm afraid she's a poor substitute."

She cracked up.

"Maggie, you look hot tonight. Are you sure you want to go with me? I may not be able to control myself."

She snickered, "Yeah, yeah. Flattery will get you nowhere."

"Ah, then call me Nowhere Man."

Maggie chuckled and grabbed his upper arm. "How have you been? Seeing anyone?"

"I see them for an hour, any more time together and the rates are at a premium."

Maggie couldn't help but let out a short laugh, "How's your leg?"

"Hurts."

She nodded, giving him an understanding smile, "But you're doing so well on your cane again. I'm really sorry that the Ketamine didn't work. But, have you cut down the Vicodin?"

"I've been seeing a pain specialist after my liver panels came back in the abnormal range."

Her stomach turned. Maggie had been worried that his liver would start to fail. She found herself being drawn into the drama that was Greg. Worrying about his leg, his drug use, his mental state, his loneliness, all felt familiar to her. They arrived at the Comedy Club and took a seat.

All evening House bought Maggie drinks and they listened to the performers. House found most of the jokes lame, but he enjoyed watching Maggie hold her stomach as she laughed. It was fun remembering that Maggie had this unique sense of humor that seemed to appreciate everything from slapstick to British cynicism. She could laugh at just about anything, especially herself. He wanted to snatch her in his arm and tell her she was making a mistake, that he loved her, had always loved her and would always love her. But he was smart, she was expecting him to do something like that. He would wait, he had tomorrow.

They drove back to the hotel and had a nightcap in the hotel bar, finishing their discussion of emerging diseases. House walked to the lobby with Maggie, saying goodnight. He reached over and gave her a peck on the cheek.

"Good night Maggie. Thanks for not boring me."

"If that's your way of saying you had a nice time, I guess I'll accept it. Goodnight Greg, this was fun and I'm glad we ended up such good friends." She leaned in and gave him another kiss, a quick peck on the cheek and a hug around his shoulders before taking off towards the elevator.

House watched her disappear and smiled to himself. The plan was working.

Maggie watched the elevator door close and the last glimpse of House filled her with sadness. It had been such a wonderful evening and now she was feeling down. She knew why; it was because she didn't want it to end. It had been years since she had felt that at ease with someone, enjoyed their company that much. Hating the fact that she let him get to her, she softly hit the wall of the elevator with her fist.

Opening the door to the room, she saw that the light was off. She went into the bathroom and got into her nightgown, brushed her teeth and then crawled in next to Conor. She had a hard time getting to sleep, watching the clock tick away. The last time she looked before going to sleep it had said that it was two in the morning. Maggie knew she was going to have a hard time getting up in the morning.

The alarm went off, startling Maggie. Normally, she woke before the alarm. She turned and looked at Conor and let out a gasp. His pillow had patches of hair strewn across it.

"_Conor! Honey, wake up." _She pushed on his shoulder.

"Huh?"

"Y_our hair!"_

Conor reached up and felt. He looked down at his pillow, jumped up and went to the mirror, "Jesus, Mary and Joseph! What the feck is this?" More hair came out as he ran his hand through it. "What do you think it is?" He looked in the mirror and saw areas where he was completely bald.

"I don't know. I'm calling Greg."

"Don't call him!"

"Look, this is no time for vanity. If anyone can figure it out, it will be Greg."

House was dressed and waiting. When the phone rang, he sat still, letting it get to the fourth ring before picking up. "It's only 7:00 am, this better be important."

"Greg, it's Maggie. Can you please come to our room? There's something wrong with Conor and I don't know what it is. He's had diarrhea and now hair loss. He's pretty anxious too."

"What's your room number?"

"412."

Within ten minutes, House was examining and asking Conor questions associated with his recent history. He already knew most of it. He had spent most of Wednesday night sending out emails and fax requests to people he knew in Ireland and Europe under the guise that he was treating Conor…and now he was!

House sat on the bottom edge of the bed, "It's not lupus. I don't think it's anything zoonotic because you've been in Geneva too long. There's nothing in Geneva that would cause this. Judging from your history it's one of three things, syphilis, an allergic reaction to something you ate or, and this is most likely, a drug reaction. What drugs are you on?"

Maggie piped up, "None. He takes a multiple vitamin, that's it."

House narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips as he watched Conor squirm. "I think Conor has something to tell us."

Maggie knew House well enough that she immediately suspected something, that Conor must be taking something she didn't know about, "Conor?"

Conor started to sweat, "Nothing Maggie, I'm taking nothing. Just the vitamin."

House almost smiled. _This is perfect, he just dug his grave._

"Then this is an allergic reaction and you need to stay in bed for a few days, let your system calm down. I'll prescribe you Cortisteroids for the inflammation, some Buspar to calm your anxiety and Ambien to make you sleep." House turned to Maggie, "He needs some rest, _lots of it_. So if this was supposed to be a trip full of bedroom acrobatics, I'm afraid you two need to take a raincheck."

"No, it's okay." Maggie turned to Conor, "Is there anything you want?"

"Food. I'm starving."

House shook his head, "Clear broths, jello, maybe some chicken noodle soup. Get down liquids." Turning to Maggie, House tilted his head, "Don't you have a panel presentation?"

She nodded, "Yes, I have to get dressed. It's being held in at the hotel next door because of a lack of space here."

"I must have missed that info. Damn, and I wanted to see it. No way that I'll be able to walk over for that in time."

"They're sending a golf cart to pick me up. You can ride over with me."

House smiled, "Great. I'll wait in the lobby. Now, Conor, make sure that you get a lot of sleep for the next twenty-four hours."

"Thanks Greg."

"No problem."

House left the hotel room and went to the lobby, twirling his cane along the way. He was one happy camper.

Maggie waved as she came off the elevator, signaling for House to follow her. They went out front and House got in back as they rode over to the hotel next door. House tipped the driver 20 to Maggie's surprise. It seemed rather exorbitant for such a short ride. They found the room and went inside to find it bare, void of people and equipment.

Maggie shrugged her shoulders, "It's still early, but they haven't even set up the coffee and pastries. I wonder what's going on?"

"Well, let's wait a few minutes and if someone doesn't come soon, we can go ask."

House wanted to wait as long as possible so that Maggie would be unable to get back to her panel. After another ten minutes, Maggie went looking for someone, showing the day manager the revised schedule.

The middle aged Japanese-Hawaiian manager shook his head, "Doctor, I don't know what to say, but no one told me. It looks as if they changed their minds."

Maggie ran back to get House, but he wasn't where she left him. A woman was vacuuming outside in the hall, "Have you seen a tall man with a cane?"

"He said he would be back soon, he had to use the restroom."

Five minutes later, House showed up.

"Greg, I've got to get back over to the hotel, I called and the hotel told me that the panel is being held in the original room."

"Maggie, the panel has been going for fifteen minutes. By the time we get a cart to go back, it will be another fifteen minutes. It will take another ten minutes to get to the room, just in time for the question and answer session. You won't be missed. You were just one in five panelists."

Maggie's shoulders dropped; he was right. She called the seminar director, explained the mix-up and was told not to worry; everyone just assumed that she was sick. Looking over at House, she shook her head. "This trip has been terrible with Conor getting sick and me missing the panel, ugh."

"Come on. Let's get you a Mimosa and some breakfast, I'll buy."

She pulled her head back in disbelief, "You're buying again?"

He looked at her with mock innocence, "I'm a very generous man. Let's check your laptop and briefcase in with the concierge until we leave."

After getting the hat-check for her laptop, they went into the dining room where House ordered them two Bloody Marys. They ordered breakfast on the Lanai as Maggie let the wind from the ocean blow through her short hair. She smiled and put on her sunglasses.

"This is great."

House smiled, "So, are you still drinking Margaritas?"

"Usually."

"Have you tried a Mojito?"

She shook her head, looking beautiful in the Polynesian print dress that wrapped around and tied at her waist. "I've heard of them, but haven't tried one yet."

House motioned for the waiter to come over and ordered two Mojitos. He told the waiter that he wanted a double shot in his. When the drinks were delivered, House casually pointed to a surfer and switched the drinks as Maggie looked over her shoulder.

They sat and talked some more about how much fun they had during the first six months they lived together. Maggie was surprised to find that House was nostalgic, wishing that he could go back to those days again.

"You know Mags, I realize now that I blew it with you. You always kept me on my toes. You took good care of me too." He sat back in his chair, drinking the Bloody Mary. He looked around and leaned forward so that only Maggie could hear him, "I have some Maui Wowee. You want to go toke some?"

Maggie giggled, "I haven't had any Ganja since Africa. I'm too drunk to go back and attend seminars, but we don't dare smoke it; it's pretty public around here."

"I know, let's take a taxi to Kawailoa Beach. It's about thirty minutes away. Pretty deserted and beautiful."

She shrugged and winced, her eyes more gray than blue, "I'd love to see the other side of the island. But, I don't have beach shoes."

"We'll buy some when we get there." He saw that she was reluctant, feeling guilty. "I promise to get you back in a couple of hours. You're too drunk to go to seminars; Conor's going to be asleep and it's a beautiful day in Hawaii. Come on, go with me?"

"Well, okay. As long as we get back by one, okay?"

House nodded. They finished their drinks and House paid the bill. Hooking his arm in hers, he flagged down a cab at the front of the hotel. Piling in the back, Maggie got the giggles, causing House to start chuckling. House looked at the driver as he turned to get directions, "Haleiwa."

As they sat in the back, House took no liberties, but kept talking to Maggie about the past, "I remember when we took that drive to Amish country."

"And I dropped my ice cream cone down your front?"

He smirked, "And then you licked it off."

Maggie started grinning, "Oh, yeah. We found that barn and I got hay up my ass. Thank God no one found us."

"Yeah, we were giving the barnyard animals a lesson."

"Boy, we could screw at the drop of a hat."

House took off his baseball cap and threw it on the floor, then wiggled his eyebrows.

She giggled, "Funny, ha,ha."

"Maggie, you really are something. You know, I came to this seminar for you. Granted, Cuddy wanted me to come, but I was going to figure a way out of it. Then I saw your photo."

"Why come for me Greg? You told me a long time ago that things were over between us…and then you told me and told me and told me. It was Stacy, Stacy, Stacy."

"Well, you have to understand, she had just left. Whenever someone leaves, that's who you want; because you can't believe that they don't love or need you anymore."

"Stacy left because she loved you."

"And in Philly I left because I loved you. "

"But not enough to give me what I wanted, what I needed from you."

House hung his head, "I know." He snickered, "I was an idiot."

They arrived in Haleiwa, the cabbie letting them out in front of a surf shop. House grabbed Maggie's hand and took her inside. They found Maggie some beach shoes and bought two towels. Stopping to get Maggie some sunblock, a hat, and a bottle of whiskey, they made their way down to the ocean, walking along the gorgeous, deserted beach, they looked out at the blue-green sea as the waves broke close to the shore. The air smelled salty and the sun was warm on their bodies as they walked along at a slow pace. For a few minutes they were quiet, just enjoying each other and the view.

"Are you okay walking?" Maggie asked.

He nodded, "My leg's a lot stronger these days. I've been bicycling. Come on, there's a secluded cove around the bend up there." He took a swig of whiskey and handed the bottle to Maggie. She took a drink and handed it back.

"How do you know?"

"My Dad was stationed at Pearl Harbor for two years. I've hiked all over this island."

"Greg, I learn something new about you every time we get together."

He put an arm around her shoulder as they walked, "There's still a lot you don't know."

"I know. And yet, I'm an open book."

House started chuckling as he looked over his sunglasses at her face, "Excuse me? Africa? Geneva? South America? My God, you've certainly got a few tales to tell. You can start by telling me about the pneumonic plague. I can't believe you're alive to take this walk on the beach with me."

They talked until they came to the cove where there was a nice white sand beach with grass adjacent to it. There were palm trees and ferns, some rocks and no one to bother them.

"This is beautiful."

"You're beautiful."

"You've been smoking too much Maui Wowee."

He laughed and motioned for her to sit on the sea grass. They both drank from the bottle of whiskey and watched the waves. Pulling out a joint, House lit it up and handed it to her. Maggie inhaled and coughed.

"Oh! That's strong shit Maynard."

House took a toke and then handed it over to Maggie again. His I-Phone went off in his pocket just in time. Taking it out, he read the screen and then hung his head.

Maggie, feeling both drunk and high, took another hit and passed the joint to House, "What is it Greg?"

"Mags, are you trying to get pregnant again?"

Maggie nodded, "I know, I shouldn't be smoking weed and drinking, huh?"

He laughed, "No you shouldn't, but it doesn't matter. Conor's not going to get you pregnant."

Maggie grabbed for his phone, "_What?" _As she read the screen her eyes narrowed and her jaw clenched, "How did you get this?"

House handed her the joint, "When he was sick and I asked about medication, I sent out a notice to some people I know in Geneva. They gave me his doctor's name. I sent a text message about his illness and he responded with this."

Maggie quizzed him, "Who's his physician?"

"Dr. Maher."

Maggie's eyes flew wide open. House was right, he was Conor's physician. What House didn't tell her is that he'd been hunting for Conor's physician since Wednesday night, hoping to find something he could use. When he received the email from Maher, he knew he had hit the jackpot. House had the email message text sent to his I-Phone to arrive when it did.

Maggie was fuming, "I only brought this little wallet with my I.D. Can I use your phone? I want to call the son of a bitch."

House happily handed her the phone. Maggie dialed Conor's cell phone, hearing a groggy Conor pick up.

"Hello?"

"Conor? I need for you to answer me one question. Are you taking testosterone enanthate?"

There was silence on the other end of the phone, a silence that told her everything.

Maggie started crying, "Oh God, how could you do this? You knew how important this was to me?"

"Maggie, let me explain…" He sounded desperate.

But Maggie hung up and handed the phone to House. He handed her the joint as he watched tears roll down her cheeks.

Her voice, wobbly from the crying, broke House's heart, "It's over. I'm never going to have what I wanted the most. Why did I think I could have it all?"

"Maggie, you're still young enough to have babies…granted it's going to be harder, but you're still fertile."

The tears slowed and Maggie sighed, her words slurred, "Oh Greg, I'm resigned to it. I thought it was too good to be true. He told me when we met that he didn't want kids. But then he told me that I had changed his mind, that having kids with me would be great. I guess I believed it because I wanted it to be true. I just wanted another baby."

House was feeling the liberating effects of the alcohol and dope. His head was swimming with ideas. Maggie took several hits before handing it back to House. Leaning over, House kissed her neck and then brought her face up to his lips. Maggie parted her lips slightly, closed her eyes and tilted her head; _she wanted this_.

The familiar lips on her felt so good, so soothing. He searched for her tongue and when they touched both of them pulled the other closer. House gently laid Maggie back on the grass and kissed her from her cleavage back up to her lips. House reached down and fumbled with the tie on Maggie's dress. Finally freeing the binds, he opened the dress up to see a lace push-up bra and hipster panties. House took a deep breath and kissed Maggie's tummy.

Maggie was self-conscious, "Not as flat as it used to be."

House chuckled, "It was never flat to begin with, but I like it this way. There's something comforting and soft about you." He looked and smiled at her to let her know he was telling the truth. Maggie ran her hand through his hair. He straddled her legs, pulling the pink lace hipster slowly down to reveal the tuft of dark blond hair that covered her Mound of Venus. He leaned down and kissed it. Sitting up, House began to undress, taking his shirt off over his head without unbuttoning it, pulling his shorts down quickly.

Maggie closed her eyes as the world began to twirl. The Maui Wowee was strong and she was feeling hot and sexy. She opened her legs for House, who lightly brushed his hand over the hair between her legs. Maggie suddenly realized how much she had wanted this. From the moment she saw him in the courtyard, she had wanted to feel his touch on her body. Pulling her sleeves off, Maggie pulled the dress out from under her and tossed it to the side. She snapped the latch on her bra and began to pull it off as House watched.

His breath became erratic, heavy. He exhaled with delight when the round, white breasts were revealed. He immediately abandoned his post and climbed her body to take her breast in his mouth, sucking hard and fast until Maggie's breathing was as fast as his. House was happy, grateful for his stiff erection. The Maui Wowee was strong and he was feeling happy, almost giddy, especially after her breasts had been revealed.

"Maggie, I missed your perfect breasts. They're two of my favorite things about you." He looked into her eyes and grinned. Back to licking and sucking, he felt between her legs. She was warm and sticky, her juices wet enough for him to enter. He rubbed his erection against her clit

Maggie had been concentrating on the feel of his tongue on her nipple and the slight scratching of his beard against the tender skin of her breast. But when he found clit and rubbed it with his wet head, she let out a quick gasp. He pushed his cock less than an inch into her, then took it out and rubbed her clit again. Rubbing the entire length between her thighs he then pushed into her two inches and pulled out an inch, then in and out again, causing Maggie to groan.

"Greg, you can't keep doing that, I need you inside."

"Alright Maggie, for you, anything."

Planting his left elbow just above her shoulder, House felt again for the wet entrance and this time he rammed inside of her, causing her whole body to push back. Again, he pulled out slightly and rammed, filling her again.

"Is that what you want Maggie?"

She smiled, "Yes, oh yes, that's what I want."

House was giggling as he pumped Maggie. The marijuana had turned his cynicism into optimism. He knew what he had to do.

"Maggie?"

Maggie was concentrating on the feel of his cock inside of her, filling her with each thrust.

"Maggie?"

"Huh?" Maggie's marijuana encrusted senses finally realized he was trying to tell her something.

"I'm going to give you a baby. Right now. We're going to make a baby."

Maggie mind danced, trying to focus on what he said. It was hard, her senses, her thoughts were eratic, "Yeah, okay? Yeah, okay! Oh Greg, give me a baby. _Give me fifty babies_." He started pounding harder. "That's it. It's perfect timing, I'm ovulating. Oh Greg, it feels so damn good."

"Yeah, it's so hot! You have pretty hair." He slipped back, almost coming out of her. "Bend your knees. If we're going to do this right, I need to get my swimmers as far back in you as possible."

She bent her knees and then he pulled both her legs up over his shoulder, her ass rising in the air. He kneeled at a forty-five degree angle and then started grunting as he pounded and moaned with each thrust. Sweat was pouring off both of them in the humid heat of mid-day. He could feel it coming from his balls. The pressure was rising at the base of his penis and exploding as he looked down at the cherry red nipples dancing with the force of each thrust.

House yelled out, the explosion so deliciously sensual that he couldn't see anything at first. All he could do was thrust over and over as she clamped down with her muscles to milk the last ounce out of him. He immediately reached down and started rubbing her clit, "You need to come, Mags. It will pull the semen to the top of the vagina."

"Jesus Greg, I didn't need to be told, believe me, I want to come. I feel like a champagne bottle ready to pop. Ah fuck, that feels so good."

He alternated between rubbing her clit and slipping his fingers inside the moist sticky opening. Finally, he concentrated on her clit. Rubbing her breasts, she looked up at Greg and saw so much love in his face, she almost started giggling. But the feeling of the thumb on her clit and his long middle finger gliding in and out was more than she could take. Her body flushed, her nipples hardened. House felt her abdomen and thighs tighten. He rubbed faster.

"Come, Mags, come."

The contractions inside her came like a wave on the beach, rolling and crashing, rolling and crashing. Maggie pushed her pelvis down and angled herself so he could rub even faster. More waves hit, multiple times.

Her scream was so loud that House looked to make sure there was no one to hear it. Maggie slapped her thighs shut to stop his hand and then pulled away. House relaxed and grabbed her up into his arms.

Both of them were laughing, endomorphins raging through their bodies from the sex and the marijuana. Maggie loved the smell of House's sweat and musk as it mixed with the smell of sex. She noticed that they would soon be in the sun as it moved west over the canopy of the tree they were under.

"Put your knees up. We need to stay this way for ten minutes." He put his knees up to keep her company. Reaching over, he grabbed another joint and lit it up. He was proud, proud that he had come up with the solution to all the problems in the world with just a few good thrusts and a huge explosion. He was good, he was awesome.

"Jesus, Greg, I'm already so stoned I actually think you're good looking."

"Yeah, well it's funny how much you look like Denise Richards."

Maggie sat up on her elbows, "Denise Richards?"

House handed her the joint, "Hey, she's got big tits."

"Yeah? Mine are a small C…so where do you get Denise Richards?"

He shrugged his shoulders and smiled, "Maggie, it doesn't really matter; I didn't see anyone but you."

"I know, thanks for playing, I was just fishing for attention." She looked at him, "Greg, what if we did make a baby? We'd be back to where we were almost eighteen years ago."

House took another toke, his mind searching for answers to life's questions through a fog of euphoria, "Mags, let's take a swim, get the sex off of us and go get married. "It's only 1:00 pm."

"Don't we need blood tests, a license?"

"No blood tests and no waiting in Hawaii. We just have to find a marriage agent to give us a license." He put out the joint and then stuck it in his shirt pocket.

Maggie, slurring and nodding, her eyes having a hard time focusing, cheered, "This makes perfect sense. We make the baby and we get married. All problems solved!"

They both felt pleased with their perfect plan. After a few more minutes, House grabbed his cane and pushed up, reaching down to pull Maggie up with him. Standing, he held her naked body next to his and kissed the top of her head.

"Greg, isn't this perfect?

"Couldn't be a more perfect day in history."

He put his cane down and they walked to the warm, tropical water, where they played for twenty minutes, splashing and kissing. Standing in three feet of water, Maggie walked over to House as the waves hit them. She rubbed her breasts on his lower chest and grabbed his butt in her hands.

"God, I'm getting another erection."

"Shall we accommodate it?"

"Later, we need to get married."

Dressing, they started back to civilization. House pulled Maggie back into the surf shop. He found the owner, "Hey, do you have a marriage agent and a justice of the peace in this town? We want to get married."

The surf shop owner, a large Hawaiian surfer with a goatee, could see they were stoned, but stoners getting married were common in the little town. Stoned and drunk newlyweds amused the locals because they were always so 'over-the-top' romantic. Their weddings always ended up being a drama full of undying devotion and world peace. He loved stoner weddings. But these two were a little old to be stoners. Still, it took all kinds to make the world go round.

The surf shop owner closed the register, "It'll cost you 250, but I can arrange it all with one phone call. By the way, I'm Toad." He stuck out his hand to House.

House nodded and shook his hand. "Greg and Maggie."

Half an hour later Toad took them over to a small restaurant with a deck overlooking the ocean. House and Maggie signed the license brought by the agent. Motioning to an area, they stood on the deck while the female justice of the peace read the ceremony. House and Maggie kept kissing and giggling. All the locals in the restaurant joined them on the deck and were laughing at the two middle aged stoners who would wake up in the morning and wonder 'what the fuck?'

The tiny Japanese-Hawaiian Justice turned to House, "Would you like to say something to your wife to be?"

House raised an eyebrow, "Sure…" He thought for a minute, then looked at Maggie, "Gorgeous, intelligent, kind, sweet, charming, witty, hilarious, friendly...well enough about _me! _I need to tell you what I think about you, Mags. Roses are red, pickles are green, I like your legs and all that's between!"

Maggie tilted her head and kissed him, "Oh honey, that was so sweet! Is it my turn?" The Justice nodded. "I knew from the minute I met you that I could fall madly in bed with you. I thought that if I wanted a committed man, I'd have to look in the hospital. It's nice to know that you finally asked me to marry you after five drinks, two joints and sex on the beach. I can tell you're sincere."

The Justice snickered while the locals laughed, "By the power invested in me by the State of Hawaii, I now pronounce you man and wife." A flash went off as they kissed and Toad, holding a video camera, went in tight for the first kiss as husband and wife. When they came up for air, Toad came over.

"Your wedding certificate will be mailed to you in about four to six weeks. I need to get some personal stuff off the video tape, but I'll send it along with the wedding photos and the certificate. Congratulations, Greg, Maggie." The Marriage Agent popped the cork on the champagne bottle and poured out two glasses which Maggie and House grabbed.

"To Mr. and Mrs. House."

Maggie shook her head, "Dr. House and Dr. Malone, newlyweds!"

House, a little wobbly on his feet, toasted Maggie and then they knocked back the glasses. Walking over to Toad, House belched and then asked, "Anyplace here that we can consummate the marriage?"

Toad laughed, "Sorry dude, but most of us just do it in the cove around the bend on the beach."

Maggie sighed, "Been there, done that. Come on honey. She dragged House around the side of the restaurant, into the shade where no one could see them unless they purposefully followed them.

"Mags, I can't support your weight if you think we're going to fuck standing up face to face."

Maggie looked around, "Well, I could bend over."

"I want the first time we screw as husband and wife to be face to face."

Maggie smiled, "Damn Greg, that's sweet." She pulled him over to a bench, pushing him down on the bench, unzipping his pants and fishing his dick out of his pants. Kneeling down she brought him to full attention with her tongue running up the vein of his shaft, her hand following behind in perfect rhythm. House was jerking slightly each time her tongue ran up the vein. She sucked the small amount of semen off the top. Maggie stood up, opened her dress, from the waist up, took off her bra and slipped her panties off. She straddled House and lowered herself onto his throbbing dick.

"Oh Jesus Mags, this is so hot. Our first married sex is in a public place in Hawaii, half clothed."

Maggie, laughed, "Just shut up and come, Greg."

"Okay baby, whatever you say." But the mixture of alcohol and marijuana was taking a toll on House's ability to come. He was still hard, but he just couldn't come. Maggie finally reached around and gently stuck her tongue in his ear.

She whispered so that her breath would tickle his ear and neck, "It feels so hot with you inside me. You fill me up and make me want to scream. I love your mouth sucking on my nipples, biting them, sucking them until I can't take it anymore. I want to come with you inside me. I'm reaching down and playing with myself."

She reached down and started rubbing her clit while House sucked on her warm, sweaty breasts. He started to buck up faster and faster as he felt her hand down next to his abdomen as she played with herself. Maggie, thought of nothing but the feel of him inside of her and her own finger quickly bringing her to an orgasm. She moaned and then threw her head back as the first contraction around his erection sent the tingly pleasure up to her nipples.

House felt her orgasm and the strong wave of contractions around his dick. He continued to thrust, finding it harder to thrust as she gripped him tightly. Riding him, Maggie screamed his name.

"Greg, fuck me!"

That was all he needed, he exploded, moaning and groaning as he did. They bounced up and down on the bench, Maggie's breasts jiggling in his face, flushed with her climax. He looked at her face, contorted from the sex and was so content, so happy that she was his, forever.

"Oh!" Maggie gave out her last yell and then fell forward onto House's shoulder.

They didn't move for a full minute. Maggie finally pulled herself off and to the side. House watched as his once hard penis, deflated in front of him, red and angry from the long screw they had just experienced.

Maggie smiled as she put on her panties. "There, it's consummated, now let's go have another glass of champagne! The first one was good."

They dressed, laughing at each other as they did. Walking into the restaurant, the small crowd clapped.

The bartender yelled out, "Greg, fuck me!"

Maggie bowed. Everyone laughed. Maggie and House stayed another hour drinking with the people at the bar. When both were ready to pass out, Toad dug into House's wallet, found his hotel card key and called a cab. He instructed the cabbie to take them to the hotel and make sure the concierge got them safely inside to their rooms. He pulled 50 out of House's wallet, gave it to the cabbie and managed, with help, to get them tucked into the back seat. He attached a sign to House's shirt, then tucked House's wallet back in his front pocket and shook his head as the cab drove out of site.

Conor had been waiting impatiently in the lobby for Maggie to get back to the hotel. When the cab pulled up he saw House in the back of the cab and then Maggie. Both were asleep or passed out. The cabbie stopped the car at the front of the hotel. Conor ran out and immediately grabbed the door, opening it. There was a sign pasted to House's shirt. Conor stared at it, ripped it off and crumpled it up, putting it in his pocket. Pulling Maggie out and over his shoulder, he took her back to the room.

Wilson's room was called and he was asked to come and take care of his friend. Walking through the lobby, he saw Conor getting on the elevator with a passed out Maggie on his shoulder. He knew House must be in a similar condition or he wouldn't have been called. Wilson had a harder time getting the drunk House up to the room, finally having to resort to using the hotel's wheelchair. Once in the room, Wilson pushed and pulled House into bed and left him to sleep it off.


	43. Chapter 23 Back to Civilization and Into

**Chapter 23**

**Back to Civilization and Into the Jungle**

Maggie's first sensation was an overwhelming nausea. She jerked her body up, poised to go to the bathroom, when the man with the sledge hammer in her head kicked in. Running to the bathroom, she spewed over the floor and toilet. She held her head with both hands as the pain crashed around inside. She couldn't remember much about yesterday except that she had climbed in a taxi with Greg to go smoke some dope.

Conor heard her retching and jumped up. "Mags!" He ran into the bathroom only to slip on some vomit, "Ohhhhh…"

"Conor, you need to get out of here, this isn't pretty. Can you get me a couple of motrin?"

He took a washcloth and cleaned off the vomit from the bottom of his foot, then went out and fished a couple of Motrin out of his shaving bag. Grabbing a water bottle, he took it into the bathroom and gave her the Motrin. Maggie was cleaning up the floor.

"Mags, this is very important, I need to tell you about the testosterone enanthate."

Maggie tried to remember why they would be talking about male birth control. She decided to play it cool, "Uh, yeah. Explain it to me."

Conor put his hands out, palms up, "Honey, I signed up for the protocol a month before we met. The protocol ends next month. I wanted to tell you, but you wanted a baby so much, I knew you'd be hurt."

Maggie crumpled up on the floor and started to cry, this was all news to her, "_You lied? You let me think it was me, that my eggs were too old?_" She stood up, "_I went through a month of tests_. _Painful tests! And you lied! Do you know what I've been going through, worried that it was too late for me?"_

"But Mags, I did change my mind, if you want kids, then I want kids. I didn't think it would hurt to wait until after the wedding, and, since I was on the WHO protocol…" he sounded desperate.

Maggie's nose flared, "_But you lied to me!"_

"Maggie, I'll stop the protocol. We can start trying again."

She shook her head violently, "I can handle a lot, but lying about this? When it meant so much to me? After everything I told you about Bridget? I feel so betrayed."

Conor slammed his palm against the wall, "_Betrayed? _You ran off with House yesterday and came back in a stupor. How do you think I feel?"

Maggie looked off in the distance, "Yesterday is very hazy. I know had drinks with Greg and we went for a cab ride, but it starts to get bizarre from there. Conor, you lied to me. Greg never lied to me. He always said that he didn't want children or marriage. But, you let me spend the last four months thinking I had a chance. This was such an important issue, how can I trust you?"

"Maggie, give me another chance. I promise you, I'll go off the drug. We'll have babies, lots of babies."

Maggie didn't answer, she looked at the clock. "Christ, I have two hours before my plane takes off."

"I'm coming with you."

"No, I have meetings this afternoon. I'll see you tomorrow, but I want you to get a separate hotel room. I need time to think this through." She grabbed her throbbing head and then looked up at him, "Now, I need to get a shower and get ready. I'm already late."

Maggie checked out half an hour later, still unsure of what she had done the day before. She suspected that she had sex with House. She had sensory memories of his smell and touch. She should have prepared for her meeting, but her stomach and head were not cooperating. Leaning back in her business class seat, Maggie tried to piece together the previous day, but her pounding, unforgiving head, wouldn't let her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

House was just waking up. Eyes unfocused, his mouth felt like he had cotton balls stuffed in it. He swung his still clothed body to the edge of the bed and thought hard. _Maggie… we made love. We had sex on the beach after she called Tool._ House looked over on the other side of the bed hoping she was there. She wasn't. He tried her room, but she wasn't picking up. Thinking she wouldn't have left without talking to him, he decided she must be having breakfast. House showered and dressed.

He tried to remember what had happened the day before, but his brilliant mind wasn't cooperating. Remembering a restaurant and people, he wasn't sure what had transpired. As House dressed and packed, he continued to ruminate over the events. He recalled that they pretended to get married, joked back and forth with vows, had champagne. Everyone around them was laughing. House couldn't remember anything past that. He knew he was short about 400 and couldn't remember why.

Walking through the lobby, House saw Conor talking to another doctor. He walked up and with no pleasantries barked, "Where's Maggie?"

Conor grimaced, then smiled at the man he was talking with, "Excuse me Jeff." He turned to House, "She had a plane to catch. She's attending a meeting in San Francisco this afternoon."

House stared over Conor's shoulder in thought. He turned, without saying goodbye and went back up to his room. His plane didn't leave until 11:30 am. House tried Maggie's cell phone, but it went to voicemail.

"Mags, call me, 609-239-1704. I need to talk to you about yesterday."

But Maggie didn't call.

On the plane trip home, Wilson moaned, "Jesus House, every pore in your body is seeping with booze, did you shower?"

House snarled and then closed his eyes, pulling the articulated wings of his headrest to give him something to lean his head on.

"Okay, I give up. What happened yesterday?" Wilson asked.

House shrugged his shoulders, "I'm not sure. I know we had sex on a beach…but that's about it. I want to get in touch with Maggie, maybe she knows what happened."

Wilson laughed, "I doubt it. When I saw her being carried by Conor, she was passed out."

House looked up out of desperation, then rested his head back on the headrest. Something was hounding him; a piece of the puzzle was missing. _What happened between us? Did we get back together?_

It ate him up the whole way home. He kept remembering laughing about getting married, being silly, but most of it was a blur. He left message after message for Maggie, but it wasn't until she got back to Geneva that she called him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

House leaned away from the computer and picked up the phone, "House."

"Greg?"

"It's about time you answered my calls."

"Oh, blow it out your ass. I've been in meetings for the last four days."

"Yeah, yeah, you're busy." He paused, "Mags, what happened Friday? I know we made love on the beach, but after that…"

"We did?" Maggie's voice was genuine, she hadn't been sure. But she did notice his use of language. He hadn't said, 'we fucked', 'we screwed', 'we had sex'. She sighed, "We did?"

House snickered, "Yeah…don't you remember?" This was bad; House at least wanted her to remember the sex.

She sighed, "Greg, I've been having flashes. I thought we had made love, but wasn't sure. The mixture of dope and alcohol did a number on me. I don't remember much."

He closed his eyes, "Maggie, something happened last Friday between us. I'm not too sure what and I'm not sure what it means, but I love you Mags. I never stopped loving you."

Maggie put a hand up to her head and closed her eyes, "Greg, I can't deal with this right now. I have a WHO presentation to put together."

"Maggie, you do remember that Conor is taking the experimental birth control?"

"Yes…I know. He told me."

"He only told you because I told you and you confronted him, remember?"

"Really?" Maggie started to cry, sounding weary, "Is this what you want? You want to drive a wedge between Conor and me, thinking I'll just run into your arms?"

"_Yes!" _He paused, "I want you to come home and talk to me about _us_!"

"Us?" she snorted, "There is no, 'us'. Just leave me alone, I need time to think. I feel as if I've been kicked in the teeth, no thanks to you. If you hadn't brought the birth control up, I would have never known about the protocol, Conor would have been through with it in a month and I'd still be getting married. Once again, you've made me cry."

"So you and Conor aren't getting married?"

"I've postponed it for a few months."

"Is he still living with you?"

"Yes, but he's sleeping in another room for now. Greg, I have to go. I'll talk to you later."

He heard the click before he could even say goodbye. Thinking through what he needed to do, House decided to wait a few days before calling back. Maggie needed some time, if he pushed now, she'd balk and he'd never be able to win her back.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Maggie was sorting the laundry and pulling out things from the pockets of the trousers and shorts. She reached into Conor's cargo shorts and found a crumpled paper. Unfolding it, she was puzzled. Simply written in large letters across the page was, 'Just Married.' She took it upstairs where Conor was making lunch.

She furred her brow, "What's this?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "Nothing."

It was the way he shrugged his shoulders without looking her in the eye that made her suspicious. Maggie screamed, "Damn it! This isn't helping me restore my trust in you. Where did you find this sign?"

He slammed down the wood spoon on the tile. "Alright, it was pinned on House when you two arrived, drunk and passed out, in the back of the taxi."

She pulled back her head in disbelief, "Just married?"

"You're asking me? I don't know why it was there. It must have been a joke."

Maggie sat down, "Probably a joke. I mean, you can't get married without a license and blood work and you know …a waiting period."

Once again Conor shrugged, "You have to wait three months in Ireland and register the banns before you can get married."

"Three weeks?"

"In England you have to register your upcoming wedding at least two weeks before it or it's not legal."

"Hmmm." Maggie got up and threw the paper away.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

House dialed her number and smiled when she answered. "Hi Mags."

Maggie looked at her watch, it was 9:30 am, "My God, what time is it over there?"

"3:30 am."

"You're up early."

House chuckled, "I haven't been to bed yet, I have a patient."

"Oh."

"Maggie, I miss you."

She gasped, "Damn it Greg, _stop that!_ You don't want me; you just don't want me being with someone else."

"It's not true Mags, I'm perfectly sober now and I want you to marry me."

Maggie started laughing uncontrollably, "Greg, you really are something. Only you would ask a woman to marry him who is engaged. I can't do this anymore, please don't contact me again. I'm going to give Conor a second chance. We've moved the wedding up. We're going to get married next month. Small wedding, just family. So you need to stop calling. Greg, it's truly over between us. If we meet at a conference, I expect you to exchange pleasantries, nothing more. I need to take the safe bet this time and Conor's the safe bet."

"Maggie, Tom was the safe bet. How did that work out? You're not fooling me; I know you love me more than Conor."

"I love you differently than Conor, not better."

"Yeah, he's the take out the trash love. I'm the 'I wanna die in your arms' love."

Maggie knew he was right, but she also knew that no one could do more damage to her than Greg House. She loved him so much that he could hurt her like no one else. "Maybe, but I'm too old to spar with you anymore."

"No, you're too old _not _to spar with me. We keep each other fresh and alive."

"I will always love you Greg, but I need a sure thing. If I come back, there's no guarantee you'll actually marry me. That doesn't even begin to answer the question of whether you'll agree to kids."

"Maggie, I'll agree to kids. We can get married tomorrow."

"I'm sorry Greg, I don't believe you. Take care." She hung up.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A week later, Maggie woke up rolled onto her stomach, triggering pain in her breasts. Sitting up, she noticed that they felt unusually achy. She got up, trying not to wake Conor and went pee. She noticed some spotting on her panties and grabbed a Kotex. The breasts, the bleeding, it all made sense, Maggie's period was due.

Conor woke up and made his way down the stairs to the kitchen, "I just realized that we better cancel the paper next week when we leave."

Maggie nodded, "Already did."

Conor chuckled, "You think of everything."

"I try!" She gave him a half-hearted smile.

Maggie had tried to be cheerful, convinced that if she acted happy outwardly, it would eventually seep inside. But she was still having a hard time forgiving Conor for what he did. She thought if they moved the wedding up, the excitement and finality of the nuptials would help ease her depression. But, she clearly wasn't as excited about the wedding as she had been before Hawaii.

Conor kept trying. He tried to make her laugh, was on top of the household chores, took her out to dinner and movies. But he knew that he had dealt the relationship an almost lethal blow. He had a lot of ground to cover before they would be back to normal. But Conor was patient and he truly loved Maggie.

Maggie's period consisted of light spotting, nothing more. A normal period for her lasted six days with heavy bleeding during the first three. She had spotted when she was pregnant with Bridget. Leaving work early, she slowly walked the four blocks down the avenue, taking a seat on the bend outside of the drug store. Her mind raced, thinking through each possibility. Not wanting to go in and ask for the pregnancy test, she sat and watched the people walk by. Finally getting up the courage, she went in and purchased a pregnancy test.

The next morning when she got up, Maggie made her way into the bathroom. She felt dizzy when she saw the wand turn pink, indicating she was pregnant. Maggie put the lid down on the toilet and sat down, trying to control her feelings. Either Conor's protocol drug wasn't working or Greg House had scored a bull's eye. She was happy, worried, confused and unsure what to do. More importantly, she had to ask herself why she was hoping it was Greg's child? Was it because of Bridget? Her desire to have her baby back? Maggie banished the thoughts and attacked what was important, telling Conor.

She waited until he got home, "I have some rather dramatic news, so I thought I'd offer you a drink before we discuss it."

Conor shook his head, and with a somber voice mumbled, "You're calling the wedding off."

She chuckled, "No, but you might." She waited until he took a seat across from her at the table. "I'm pregnant."

His jaw dropped, "_Really?" _He stared into space and then it hit him, "The drugs work Maggie, no one has gotten anyone pregnant on this protocol. You're telling me it's House's baby, aren't you?"

She didn't want to confirm it, he sounded so desperate, "I was hoping you'd tell me that the protocol had some flaws. I'm sorry. I really don't remember much about that day, but I did have sex with him."

Conor looked up, pleading, "But…there is a chance the drug doesn't work 100. Maybe House is sterile."

Maggie shook her head, "Greg was Bridget's father."

Conor turned white and swallowed hard, "You never told me that. Tom was okay with that?"

"Not when he finally found out. But, it was after she was dead. It caused our divorce. I'm not going to chance that again. You need to think about it, do you want to raise Greg House's child?"

He looked deep into her eyes, "No, but I'll raise _yours_."

Maggie smiled, "That's very sweet, but I want you to really think about it before you say one way or another. It's very likely he'll find out. He'll be in our lives forever. Think about it."

Conor understood, "I see what you mean."

"I'm flying over Wednesday to tell him. I don't want to keep looking over my shoulder. I want him to give up his parental rights. I'm going to stay in Philly until you come over for the wedding."

Conor stood up and grabbed Maggie's hand. Looking down, he smiled and nodded, "Maggie, I love you and want to marry you. I'm happy for you, you have what you want, Greg House's baby. You need to ask yourself if you want this marriage. Who do you really love? Me? Or the father of your child? You need to do some soul searching too."He bent down, kissed her on the forehead and went to the refrigerator to get himself a beer.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

His voice was almost happy, "You're in Philadelphia?"

"Yes, and I want to meet you for dinner."

House laughed, "What happened to you not wanting to see me again?"

Maggie frowned into the receiver, "I have something to discuss with you."

House leaned back with a smile, "Hmmm. It's one month since we made love on a beach and you suddenly want to see me. I'm thinking that you've been peeing on sticks lately and you wouldn't be here if they were negative."

Maggie was silent and frustrated. She hated the fact that he was so good at solving puzzles. "Where do you want to have dinner?"

"The Triumph, it's a sports bar." There was a pause, "I'm glad you're here, there's a DVD I want to show you too, a romantic comedy."

"I'm not here to watch DVDs with you on the couch."

"Oh, trust me, you'll love this one. It's a riot. The woman in it is hilarious."

"Just meet me at Triumphs, 7:00 pm."

House hung up and put the DVD in the computer, making some alterations and downloading the new, improved movie to a new DVD. He chuckled to himself. Looking up, he smiled when Wilson walked through the door.

"What's wrong with you? Why all the smiling? You make me nervous when you smile."

"Let's just say, if you have some time tonight, you might just want to be at Triumph's at 7:00 pm tonight. But, don't let anyone know you're there. It will spoil the show."

"Can I bring Penny?"

House nodded.

House put on a clean blue shirt, his best blue jeans and a suit coat. He chose the dark blue Nikes to complete the ensemble. He checked once again in the mirror to make sure no wayward hairs stuck out or needed to be shaved. He winked at himself and pocketed the DVD as he left.

Around 7:05 pm, House looked up to see Maggie coming through the door. She had the appearance of a woman trying hard to hide the fact that she wanted to look good for him. The clothes were conservative, but sexy. She had on a short jean skirt with a ribbed sweater. Her expanding bustline made the sweater look more provocative than she probably intended. She had on loafers and a cardigan.

She saw him sitting in the bar area of the brick and wood bar area. Waving, she made her way over just as the waitress delivered House's gin and tonic. Maggie sat in the dark wood chair, put her purse down and then looked at House.

"What would you like?" He asked.

"_A good night's sleep and less drama in my life_."

He nodded at the waitress, "I meant to drink."

She sighed and sat down on the tall stool, "I _know_ what you meant. I'd like a cranberry juice on ice."

House tilted his head and closed one eye, puzzled. The waitress left to get her drink. He smiled at her, she looked gorgeous. "You look great. Being pregnant suits you. Last time I saw you pregnant you were beautiful too."

Maggie sighed, "Thanks. How are you?"

"I'm happy as a clam…I got some really good news this week."

Maggie's eyebrows went up and she smiled, "Well, pray, do tell kind sir, what's so good it has you bubbling."

"Oh Maggie, we can talk about that later. I really need to know what this is all about?"

She threw up her hands, "Well, you've already guessed…I'm pregnant and you're the daddy. That is if my memories of us making love on a beach are correct."

"Just call me papa."

She rolled her eyes, "Well, papa, what do you want? Will you give up your parental rights so that Conor can adopt the baby?"

He went cold. He didn't say anything for awhile. The waitress brought the cranberry juice and put it down. He watched her take a drink, her lips red from the cranberry. She twiddled with her ring. Finally, he looked up, "Maggie, I'm going to tell you this once and I'm never going to repeat it again. I'm not the same man I was eighteen years ago. I wasn't ready for fatherhood then and I don't know if I am now, but the difference is that I want to be a father to your baby."

Maggie felt a stabbing in her heart, sad that he hadn't said the same thing years ago. Her voice choked, "Okay, that's nice Greg, but assume that I'm going to marry Conor."

"But you aren't."

She wiped her forehead, "Okay, let me try again. Assume, for the sake of argument, that I'm going to marry Conor."

He narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. Shaking his head he said, "Can't do that."

"_Jesus Christ Greg!" _She slammed her hands on the table at which House raised his glass as a signal.

The televisions, both of them, turned to the same DVD. Everyone looked up when they heard the music play. Maggie, still angry, fist in a ball and teeth clenched looked up to see a photo of her and Greg House at the Resident's Christmas Ball eighteen years ago, being displayed on the television. They looked young and so happy. Neil Young started to sing over the photo.

_Comes a time  
when you're driftin'  
Comes a time  
when you settle down_

The song continued as more photos of Maggie and House appeared and faded, blending into each other. Maggie's chin started to quiver, her bottom lip protruded as she tried to keep herself from breaking into a ball of blubber. She looked over at House who wasn't even watching the screen, he was watching her. She said nothing, rubbing her upper lip to keep from crying.

_Comes a light  
feelin's liftin'  
Lift that baby  
right up off the ground._

The music continued with photos of Maggie from different CDC events over the years that anyone could find on Google Images. A similar collage was then displayed with photos of Greg as he grew older.

_Oh, this old world  
keeps spinning round  
It's a wonder tall trees  
ain't layin' down  
There comes a time._

Maggie swallowed and looked over at him, "Greg, this is lovely, but do you really think this is going to keep me from marrying Conor?" She said it, but already she could see from the photos how much they had loved each other. And here he was again, professing his love. On top of it, she's had a baby inside of her, his baby.

_You and I we were captured  
We took our souls  
and we flew away  
We were right  
we were giving  
That's how we kept  
what we gave away._

The photos continued for another minute and then ended with the photo of Maggie and House at the Resident's Christmas Ball again. She looked at the two young people on the television in front of her, both so obviously in love with the other.

_Oh, this old world  
keeps spinning round  
It's a wonder tall trees  
ain't layin' down  
There comes a time._

As the song faded away and the screen went to black, you could hear a woman's voice:

"_Would you like to say something to your wife to be?"_

The screen came alive with a video of House and Maggie, barely standing, weaving as they tried to look at each other. Holding each other and grinning into each other's eyes. House raised an eyebrow.

_"Sure…"_ In the video you could see him thinking. He finally looked at Maggie,_ "Gorgeous, intelligent, kind, sweet, charming, witty, hilarious, friendly...well enough about me! I need to tell you what I think about you, Mags. Roses are red, pickles are green, I like your legs and all that's between!"_

The bar started howling with laughter. Someone tried to shush them up so that they could hear Maggie's response.

Maggie tilted her head and kissed him,_ "Oh honey, that was so sweet. Is it my turn?"_ The woman nodded to Maggie. _"I knew from the minute I met you that I could fall madly in bed with you. I thought that if I wanted a committed man, I'd have to look in the hospital. It's nice to know that you finally asked me to marry you after five drinks, two joints and sex on the beach. I can tell you're sincere."_

Maggie's mouth dropped open and she looked around, everyone was looking back and forth between the television and Maggie, laughing and quite amused. Maggie looked back at the television.

The Justice snickered while the people in the video laughed. _"By the power invested in me by the State of Hawaii, I now pronounce you man and wife."_ A flash went off as Maggie and Greg clung together and kissed. The camera went in tight on their faces. When they pushed away, you could see House put his head on Maggie's forehead and mouth_, 'I love you."_

A collective 'ah' went up in the restaurant crowd followed by thunderous clapping. Maggie's heart was beating wildly. She was confused.


	44. Chapter 24 Part I Baby Steps

**Maggie's Story**

**Chapter 24 part 1**

**Baby Steps**

I was sitting in a bar watching my life go by in photos when a video comes on of Greg and me in Hawaii the day our baby was conceived. I thought it was a joke, I didn't know how he had managed to get the footage, was he some George Lucas wizard? He was smart enough. But, I had to admit, it looked too real and we were definitely very drunk and high in the video. I was slowly accepting that the video was real, now I had to determine if the ceremony was real too.

After the clapping died down, they brought a glass of sparkling cider for me and champagne for Greg. I leaned into him, "Greg, please tell me what's going on?"

He pulled out a ring box, opened it up and then took my left hand. He removed my engagement ring and slipped on a beautiful emerald cut diamond, probably 2 karats, in platinum. It looked huge on my little hand. On each side of the diamond were two more emerald cut diamonds, probably a half karat each.

"Maggie, you can't marry Conor because we're married." He reached into his pocket, pulled out an envelope and opened it, handing me a folded piece of paper. It had the embossed state seal of Hawaii on it and it clearly said that Gregory Scott House was now married to Maggie Magdalena Malone.

That's when I fell off the stool, literally. Plonk! My head hit the oak floor and when I came through, Greg's face was a few inches from mine. Jim Wilson was behind him along with Jim's girlfriend.

He was scared; I could hear it in the wavering of his voice, "Honey? Maggie? Are you okay?"

There were other people standing around. The waitress was standing over me, "Shall I call an ambulance?"

Greg shook his head, "I'm a doctor, she'll be okay."

I sat up and took a deep breath, embarrassed that everyone had seen me fall off a stool in a short jeans skirt.

Greg chuckled. "Let's see if you can stand up."

He and Jim helped me stand, guiding me over to a booth.

"I think you'll be safer here." Greg climbed in next to me, but I was too stunned to speak, so Greg spoke for me, "You're shocked. Imagine my confusion when I got this in the mail. There's photos too. I called the registrar in Oahu and she confirmed that the marriage is legal in the state of Hawaii, unless of course it was entered into under duress or fraud."

I barely whispered, "Is being drunk or stoned grounds for annulment?"

He was hurt, his mouth opening slightly as his brow knitted together.

All of a sudden I reached out and grabbed him, "Oh Greg, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I'm just shocked."

Jim and Penny were in the same booth with us, the waitress transferred our drinks over. I wasn't sure I wanted to tell him what I was really thinking.

"Can I talk to you outside for a second?" I asked Greg.

Jim chirped up, "Maggie, we can leave."

"No, Jim. We'll be back in a minute. I need some air."

We walked through the bar and out to the parking lot. Greg turned and grabbed me, giving me a deep kiss. I let go and kissed back, hard.

"Greg, I have to confess something and you may want an annulment when you hear it." I swallowed hard and then took a deep breath, searching his eyes, "If we're married, I've committed adultery. I've been sleeping with Conor."

He gave me a scowl and then smiled, "Maggie, you can't commit adultery if you don't know that you're married. I forgive you. I'm sure God forgives you too."

"But, I feel horrible. I cheated on you!"

He hugged me and laughed, conveying his lack of concern.

I flashed on Conor, packing to come to Philadelphia, "Damn, now I have to tell Conor that I married you in Hawaii. It was bad enough when I told him you were the father of the baby. I know I hurt him."

"He's pretty good at keeping secrets too. Maggie, he's a grown man, he'll deal with it."

"I'm so confused."

"Okay, I can understand you're confused, but are you happy? I know I am."

I looked up at him and it hit me. He was almost giddy with happiness. I hadn't seen him this happy since when we first started sleeping together. He looked younger, brighter, healthier. It was contagious, I started laughing.

"This is a farce, isn't it?" I hugged him, "I feel like I'm living a Shakespearian comedy."

"Maggie, let's go home and make mad passionate love."

I burst out laughing again, "I'm starving. You know I am pregnant? Can we eat before we bonk?"

"Ah, all right. Let's go back and see what Wilson and Penny are gossiping about."

We rejoined Jim and Penny, who both pelted us with questions about our wedding. I was of no use and Greg remembered only a little more than me. I guess I must have still looked stunned because Jim finally asked, "Maggie? Are you okay?"

"I'm not sure; I fluctuate from being extremely amused to being absolutely scared shitless. I mean I am married to House and pregnant to boot."

Penny and Jim both gasped, eyes wide.

I turned to Greg, "You didn't tell them?"

"I thought I'd confirm my suspicion before we made announcements."

Jim was happy about the marriage, but I could tell he was deeply disturbed about our child. "Congratulations to both of you."

It was Penny who taunted the 800 lb gorilla. She started laughing; laughing so hard she could hardly talk. "House…a father? Is this where Ashton Kutcher jumps out and Punks us?"

I was about to defend Greg, but he was quick on the draw, "Yeah Penny, since everyone says we're so much alike, it'd kind of be like you becoming a mother." He aimed the last few words at Jim as a warning of things to come.

Penny glowered at House. I cleared my throat, "Penny, Greg's good with kids, I've seen him. And, he may not have told you this but, he makes beautiful babies. Beautiful, gorgeous, smart, sweet, babies." I turned and looked at Greg, giving him a smile so full of love, Penny had to look away. I think she felt that the moment seemed too private to be shared.

A minute later, Penny asked, "You two had a baby?"

"I was pregnant with Greg's daughter when I got married the first time."

Wilson looked as if he was in shock.

"So, where is she? Penny asked.

"She died when she was two."

Penny looked crushed and sober, sorry that she had asked.

I gave her a warm smile, "It was fifteen years ago."

Penny looked straight into my eyes, "I'm sorry, I'm sure the pain never goes away."

I was surprised. When Penny wanted to sound sincere, the hairs on the back of my neck went up. But they didn't go up at all, Penny was telling the truth.


	45. Chapter 24 Part II Baby Steps

**Maggie's Story**

**Chapter 24 Part II**

**Baby Steps**

Greg suggested that we go back to his apartment to talk about what we should do now. As soon as we got through the door, my husband jumped me, pushing me up against the door and pinning my arms up over my head. He dipped down and slid his hand up my skirt, grabbing my ass and burying his head in my cleavage, kissing the top of my breasts.

"God, sitting next to you in your pregnant schoolgirl outfit was so hot!" He went back to feeling my ass.

"Excuse me? You've got a pregnant woman pinned uncomfortably up against a door. Want to unpin me and let me…"he kissed my mouth to shut me up.

He let me down, hung his cane on the overhead and pulled me towards the bedroom. I started unbuttoning his shirt as fast as I could, pushing him onto the bed. He pulled on my sweater, but I swatted his hand away.

"Whaaaa?" he looked at me.

"Naughty boy, let me get your shirt off first. I want to feel you." He stopped and looked at me suspiciously, but he helped me with his shirt. It slid off and I looked at the gray hair on his chest, running my hand through it. I bent down and kissed his lips, then started taking off his belt, undoing his button and zipper.

"No, you have to take off your sweater before my pants come off."

I slipped my sweater up, showing skin and then the bottom of my bra. The bra was a chartreuse satin with black lace over it. His eyes went straight to the bra and the white of the top of my breasts.

He squinted, "Maybe that was a mistake. Just thinking about those breasts has me in overdrive."

I was flattered. After all these years he still liked my breasts and they turned him on. I thought about taking my bra off and rubbing the gray hair on his chest with them, but decided to wait. I realized I needed to get his shoes and socks off before I could get his trousers down. Climbing the bed, I took the shoes and socks off as he continued to lie on the bed, his legs still dangling over the end.

He motioned to my feet, "Now your shoes."

I kicked my shoes off into the corner and then straddled him. He put his long, hairy arms up around me and rolled me over on my back. We lay there kissing each other, his tongue darting in and out as he felt my breast through the slight padding of the bra.

I started to feel guilty. Conor was back in Geneva not knowing what was going on and I was here…cheating on him with my husband? My emotions were so conflicted that I was having a hard time concentrating on the passionate kiss Greg was giving me.

"Yoo hoo. Earth to Mags? Where are you? This is called foreplay, operative word play. You need to play back."

I pulled back and rolled onto my back, "Greg, I keep thinking that I need to put Conor out of his misery before I do this."

He exploded, "Jesus Christ Maggie, I'm your husband now. I didn't get pissy when you were committing adultery with Conor. He's not your husband, I am. Now spread your legs and let me enjoy my marital rights. Do your duty!" he said with a whine.

I knew he was trying to be funny, but my year with Conor swept over me with the painful realization that I was going to crush someone who loved me. He had always been good to me; we had built a comfortable and easy relationship, at least up until the lie about the birth control. Now I had Greg. I had always wanted Greg, always. But, still, I owed Conor an explanation.

I jumped up and Greg moaned. Running into the living room, I pulled out my cell phone and speed dialed Geneva. His voice was groggy, it was four am in Switzerland.

"Conor?"

"Maggie?"

I exhaled, "Where do I begin? Conor, you know that sign you took off of Greg? Well, it was real. Greg and I were married in Hawaii. I have the DVD, marriage certificate and photos to prove it. I don't remember, I was too drunk, too high, but I clearly did it."

There was a gasping sound, "Bloody hell! That prick! He knew if he got you drunk, he could do this."

"I don't think so, he didn't remember it either. If he did, he wouldn't have let us have the last month together. I'm sorry Conor, really."

"Maggie, you can get the marriage annulled. If you have a video that shows how drunk you were, you can get it annulled on fraud and duress. We can fly to Hawaii and hire a lawyer."

My heart sunk. I watched as Greg drop into the easy chair, a frown covering that long face of his. How did I tell Conor that I had everything I ever wanted? I had Greg and I had his baby? I didn't have to, my pause said it all.

Conor snickered, "You don't have to say it Maggie, I can tell. You've always been in love with Greg House and now you have him. Well, I'll move out before you get back. Anything we bought together, you and I can talk about when you get back. I'll leave it here."

"Conor, if you want something that we bought together, take it. I have what I want, you should at least take what you want."

There was a deep silence.

"Maggie, knowing his reputation I'd like to think you're going to be miserable and you'll come running back to me. But, I have a feeling that you're House's Achilles' heel and he's a different person with you. I have a feeling you two are going to be good together. Heaven knows, you'll keep him in line, make him behave."

I laughed, "Yeah, we're a little like dynamite and a match. But, we love each other." Greg leaned forward and squinted, wishing he could hear what Conor was saying.

"Good luck Maggie. I love you."

"I love you too, goodbye Conor."

We hung up and I looked at Greg.

"You love him?" he referred to my parting remarks.

"I was going to marry him, dufus! Of course I have feelings for him."

He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes, "But you love me more. Right?"

I shook my head with frustration, "Greg, you get a hangnail and I'm here nursing you. You call my name and I run to Princeton. You crook your finger and I'm in your arms. What do you think, asshole? If I didn't love you more, I'd be flying to Hawaii to get the marriage annulled."

He thought about it and nodded, "Come on moron, let's go back to my bedroom."

"Our bedroom."

He pretended to shudder, "Ewww, that sounded ominous."

As I got up, I looked down at him, "You know, we aren't married really."

I straddled him as he sat in the chair. Greg curved his fingers around my butt. "We have to get married in the Catholic Church, which means you have to go through Catholic counseling with me, promise to raise the baby a Catholic."

Greg rolled his eyes. "I'm already married, I don't have to do anything."

I took off my bra and let my breasts do most of my talking, "You have a choice and I'm only going to say this once, you either go through the counseling sessions, get married again in the Catholic Church or I'm taking the next available flight to Hawaii."

He looked like a little boy who was just told he doesn't get to go to Disneyland because he's been naughty. He started to reach for my breasts, but I swatted them down, several times. His shoulders slumped, his nostrils flared and he glared at me. I may have been teasing him with my breasts, but he knew that underneath I was dead serious. This was our age old debate and if I didn't win, he lost too.

"Maggie, I don't care if you raise the kid a Moonie, I'll be here to counterbalance the mumbo jumbo and I'm fine with getting married in your church—again. But, counseling?"

"Honey—"I rubbed my breasts against his chest and nibbled his ear, "You have to go through counseling or you can't be married in the church. Please do this for me. It means a lot to me."

He was breathing fast, his heart pounding against my breasts. I could taste the salt on his skin, smell that woodsy musk of his.

He turned his face and muttered into my lips, "Damn it, Maggie. Fine, I'll do it." He chuckled, "I should have done it eighteen years ago." Our lips came together and his tongue met mine. The long fingers slid up the curve of my swollen breasts as he played with them. Bending down, he licked my larger nipples, sucking gently, knowing I was probably sensitive.

I reached down and rubbed his bulge through the jeans, rubbing quickly until he grabbed my hand.

"Let's take it into the bedroom."

"First we take your jeans off."

He nodded, "Not a problem."

After sliding the jeans off, I turned back to kiss him. He stood up and we went back to the bedroom, Greg using the side of the wall to keep his balance as his perfect erection peeked out of his boxers.

I backed up onto the bed with my knees up, spreading my legs for him to climb through. He crawled on the bed, but stopped, staring between my legs at my cream lace panties. Leaning down, he pressed his lips against the lace, and began mouthing against my crotch. My clit and breasts started to heat up. I was so horny I could have deveoured him and spit him out and still have wanted more.

He rose up and covered me with his body, biting my lower lip and then dipping down to suck my nipple. They were so sore that they both tingled from excitement and ached from the pain. I let out a little gasp and he must have gotten the clue because he stopped, chuckled and then came back up to my mouth.

"I can't wait for those babies to stop hurting; they're just begging to be played with."

He rubbed his lips along mine, then traced against the edge of my teeth before letting his tongue touch mine. I could feel his nose next to mine, hear the blood rushing in my ears, see his half-closed eyes as we kissed. I was excited and wet, my entire groin congested from the blood and desire rushing to it. Sliding to my side, he continued to play with my slightly opened mouth.

I don't like to whimper, but when he slid his fingers down my panties and between my legs, I let one escape from my lips. He found it amusing, snickering as he continued to move the entire length of his finger between my slit.

"Hot and wet." Greg looked down at his hand between my legs, "God you have a beautiful body. It's curvy and fertile. It's magnificent."

"Thank you."

"I mean it. Maggie, I really want to fuck you. I want to feel myself inside of you. I want pound away, hard and fast. It's something primal, like I want to own your body."

"Greg, keep talking like that while you play with my clit and I'm going to come in your hand."

He smiled, "God that sounds so hot. Go ahead and come in my hand, there's more where that came from." With that he started to dip his middle finger inside of me and rub my clit at the same time. I started bucking up into his hand. He pushed up on his elbow to watch me. The panties started to hinder the action so he sat up and pulled them down to my knees. We could both see his hand disappear between my legs over and over as he continued a steady, but increasing rhythm. Every muscle below my waist seemed to tighten as the pressure in my vagina and clit built up.

"_Oh God, oh God, oh God! Ahhhhhhhhh!"_ My muscles contracted and released over and over as he continued hard and steady to finger me with his hand. I could feel his breath on my breasts start to increase. He pulled my knee over and rolled on top, stabbing into me as quickly as he could. His arms were extended as if he were doing push ups. The only connection was from his groin against mine.

He started to thrust, grunting and huffing, hard and fast. I looked down and could see him moving in and out of me. His dick disappearing, then reappearing, covered with my juices. He stopped, his face contorted, then he thrust again, once again his face contorted as he held his breath. He did this three more times and then let out a long gasp and collapsed.

He was breathing like a marathon racer when he started chuckling, "Holy shit. That was over the top. It felt so good I couldn't even talk. Whoa." He slipped out as I pushed him to let him know he was too heavy. He rolled over onto the bed and started laughing. He shook his head, "Jesus Maggie, you've got the sweetest pussy in the world. It's a national treasure. Too bad most of America won't have a chance to sample it."

I looked at him with an odd expression, "Uh yeah, maybe when I die you could donate it to the Smithsonian."

He smiled, "Hell no. It'll be my little secret and Tom's and Conor's and…care to elaborate on who else shares our secret?"

"No, I get the drift." I pounded his chest in protest and then he pinched me on the butt.

"How do you like being married?" He asked.

"I've been here, done that, bought the t-shirt and wore it home….remember?"

"Yeah, but you've never been married to me."

I was laying in his arms with my head on his chest. Looking up, I thought about it. He was right, I'd never been married to someone I loved this much. "It feels unreal."

Nodding, he nuzzled my ear, "You're telling me. I feel like I'm in some new version of Donny Darko…and you're the rabbit."

I sat up, "What?"

"Hey, it feels like some bizarre dream. Don't get me wrong, I've been willing to marry you for a long time. In fact, if you hadn't run out so quickly the last time you were here, I would have told you that. But, you were gone and I figured you knew what you wanted and it wasn't me."

"You had it wrong, I knew what I wanted and it _was_ you. That's why I ran out."

He pulled me over and hugged me to his chest. I could feel the thin film of sweat on him and with my tongue, licked around his nipple.

"Stop it. That tickles. Right now, everything tickles."

I pulled up and kissed him on the cheek. "Greg, when do you want to get married for real?"

He rolled his eyes, "You mean when do I want some guy in a dress flinging water at my face, feeding me white Styrofoam, blowing incense up my ass and mumbling Latin mumbo jumbo over me?"

"Sorry, unless you actually convert to Catholicism, you won't get any Styrofoam. But, you don't have to convert, just go through marriage classes. Even the Catholics have to do it. I tell you what, at the wedding, if you're good, we can have a little fun." I wiggled my eyebrows at him.

He grinned, "Now that's worth the price of admission. Can you imagine you and me screwing on the altar?"

"Not even funny. When do you want to do the church service?"

"You said you already had a date with Conor, right?"

"Yes?"

"Then let's keep it."

She tilted her head. "I'm going to have to ask the new priest if he thinks you can get through the counseling in a month."

"Maybe if you tell him that I was counseled by you and your brother fifteen years ago and we're already married, he'll hurry it along."

"Well, who do you want to come to the wedding?"

He shook his head, maybe Wilson and Penny. I know Wilson won't come without Penny. Maybe my parents, I know my Mom won't come without my Dad. That's about it."

I snorted, "Ha! You have to invite Cuddy and everyone else who works for you."

"Is there a law about that?"

"The audience will be lopsided…everyone will be on my side."

"_Everyone is on your side, always have been…always will be!" _He took a deep breath, "How many have you invited?"

"Fifty-two. Much smaller than the first one. It's just my family and a few friends from the CDC."

"Hey, let's not tell anyone about Conor not being the groom. We'll keep it a surprise."

"That's going to be hard with you going through counseling in the neighborhood."

"What if I get Father Maplethorpe to counsel me at PPTH? Would your priest marry us then?"

"I don't know; he just took up his post at the Parish last week."

"Well, ask!"

"Oooookay."

"What do I have to wear?"

"You and Wilson, whom I assume will be your best man, should be in tuxedos."

"When is my wedding?"

She smiled and tickled him, "November 15th at 4:00 pm, dinner reception afterwards."

"Where's this reception?"

"Stotesbury Mansion, downtown Philadelphia on Walnut. Beautiful interior with huge fireplace, dance floor, good food…you know, the whole nine yards."

He narrowed his eyes, "How much is this costing me?"

"Groom usually pays for flowers, my bouquet, the church, the priest, Wilson's tux and gift, the rehearsal dinner…which we're not having…"

He wrinkled his nose, "I have to pay for Wilson's gift?"

I nodded, "I suggest a watch with our thanks engraved on the back. You also pay for the limo, the honeymoon and I pay for the rest."

He frowned, "What's left?"

"Brides dress, announcements, reception, photographer, music, the catered meal, wedding program, church janitor. Just about everything. I'm afraid I've already sent out announcements with Conor's name."

Greg started laughing, "That's perfect. Just keep it that way. It will be even more of a shock. It seems as if I get off light."

"Yes, it does. Conor was going to pay for half."

Greg's shoulders slumped and he rolled his eyes, "That sap. Well, thankfully, when it comes to my weddings, I always stick to traditions. _Especially, when I've already paid for one wedding."_

"Yeah, that bottle of whiskey and two Maui Wowee joints."

"I'll have you know our nuptials cost me $250! Toad sent me the receipt for my records. You're lucky I'm even coming to this event."

I took a deep breath, my budget with Conor for the wedding had been $20,000. I could afford $20,000, but it meant cashing out a cd and incurring penalties. "All right, since the wedding is for me, I guess I'll bite the bullet and pay for it."

He snorted, "That little ring on your finger cost $27,000. If you want, hock it, buy yourself something cheaper and use the rest for the wedding."

I pulled my hand back in surprise, "You're joking! I _love_ this ring."

He smiled and wiggled his nose, "Just a suggestion."

"You jerk. You have tons of money."

He grabbed me and held me tight, grilling me with his eyes, "What do you mean?"

"I saw your bank account statements when I used to clean up for you. I'm not an idiot. You have half a million in mutual funds, not to mention all your other investments."

"That's my retirement fund."

I laughed, wiggling my way out of his grip, "Like hell! I saw your pension statement from the hospital, which was also very generous."

"Ah! So now it comes out, you married me for my money!"

"You bet your sweet ass. Since it's half mine, I'm spending it on a wedding."

He rolled over and stared at me, "Jesus, this marriage is already costing me dearly."

I kissed him, "Yeah, buddy, get used to it."

I got up and went into the bathroom to pee.

He yelled at me, "Maggie?"

"Huh?"

"When are you going to move to Princeton?"

It felt like a cold splash of water. All my giddiness was gone and reality set in. With Conor it was easy. We were going to be stationed together in London. But, even if I didn't stay in Europe, if I returned to the states with the CDC, I would probably end up in Atlanta. I guess I must have been silent for too long because a very anxious Greg appeared, naked, in the doorway staring at me on the pot. I motioned for him to leave. A minute later I was washing my hands and he was back.

"Maggie?" He said very slowly and deliberately, "When are you…my wife…the mother of my child…going to move to Princeton?"

"Greg, I'm up for a promotion, I'm going to be the European Director for the CDC in three months. I'm going to be stationed in London. They found out I was going to go to work for WHO and made me this very generous offer."

"And how much does that little job get you?"

"I'll make about $285,000."

"Maggie, I make $300,000 a year sitting on my ass most of the time. Why don't you move into the private sector where the money is?" He leaned on the door jamb.

"But Greg, it isn't. I'd have to go into a job like Cuddy's to earn the kind of money I do now. I'm an Infectious Disease Specialist, Epidemiologist, I'd be lucky to make $250,000 max unless I went into administration."

"Maggie, someone has to sacrifice their job in this marriage and you're the logical candidate. You know it won't be easy to convince someone to hire me."

"Cuddy did."

Greg dismissed me, "You forget that I slept with Cuddy. Most administrators are male and hate that I'm taller than them…it's not as easy to mount me from the back. Plus, you're pregnant. If we could find you a job that wasn't as stressful _and far away_, that would be good."

"Come to Europe, I could support us." I said, but he gave me a face that said I was hallucinating if I thought he'd go to Europe. I dried my hands and went over, leaning up against the doorjamb across from him, "Greg, you're asking me to give up my career!"

"No Maggie, I'm asking you to quit a _job!_ You can stay in medicine, have a career in medicine. I just want you to do it within a forty mile radius of our home…_Princeton…New Jersey!_."

"Yeah, well then you give up your _job!_"

"Now that would be asking me to give up my career since I'm not going to find a job as a diagnostician in another hospital and you know it."

I walked back to bed and buried my face in the pillow and started crying again. I thought that once I married Greg, my tears would be over. But, I could see that I hadn't thought it all through. He crawled back in bed on the other side and put a hand on my back, saying nothing. A hand on the back was his idea of comforting me. I turned over and looked up at him. I had married this man. This wrinkled, long faced, blue-eyed devil was my husband. He loved me so much that he wanted me to quit the only job I'd had for my professional career. I was at the pinnacle of my profession and he was about to kick me off the ladder.

"I can't make a decision right now. I have three months in my current position in Geneva and I'm not quitting until I at least finish it out. That gives me time to look around and think about it."

He wasn't happy and he showed it by slamming his hand against the wall (which I think was supposed to represent my face.) He hobbled into the bathroom and started a shower.

"Greg, why are you taking a shower, I thought we might have some more fun?"

His face turned dark, "Yeah, well you have a hand. Use it."

_Greg is turning down sex? Uh-oh._ I waited until he was in the shower and then I pulled back the curtain. He wasn't happy to see me, so I didn't say anything. I simply grabbed the soap and started washing his back. He pulled away. I tried to reach out to him again to soap him down and he pulled his arm, taking my hand with him. I lost my balance and slipped, landing in the tub, thumping my head against the bathtub spout.

"Maggie!" He turned off the water and bent down, "Maggie?"

My head was pounding and I could feel something running down my back. I reached back and felt the blood. When he saw my hand was bloody, he got out of the tub, on his knees and then leaned in to lift and bend my body forward.

"Damn it Mags, you might need stitches."

"No, it will stop. Just get me something to press against it," I said and then huffed, "That's the last time I initiate shower sex with you."

He came back with a mottled looking towel, obviously someone had used too much chlorine and the towel had been the victim. I pushed it to the back of my head and he proceeded to help me out of the bathtub.

I snarled at him, "Our first fight as a married couple and you managed to draw blood."

He looked down, a contrite expression over his face. "Let me see it."

He cleaned the wound and determined I was right, it was just a flesh wound, no stitches necessary. When we settled down in bed again, a towel draped across my pillow, I finally noticed how subdued he was.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"I'm pissed at you, that's what's wrong. Maggie, you could have been seriously hurt in there. How do you think I feel?"

"You're pissed at me for trying to make up with you?"

"No, I'm pissed that we can't figure our lives out. We're…" He shook his head and blew air through his cheeks, "Forget it."

"We're what?"

"We're not getting younger, you're going to have a baby and we have this one chance to get it right. _You need to move to Princeton!_"

"Oh fuck you! It's okay for me to give everything up because you're an ass and can't get a job as a janitor in a morgue."

He actually laughed, trying to pull me to him. I pushed him back and went to the edge of the bed. Reaching out, he grabbed my upper arm. I pushed on his shoulder as hard as I could.

"_No! No cuddly stuff. You expect the world to revolve around you and your needs. You've got a hand, use it."_ I yelled.

"Ha! Now that you're my wife, you have certain duties to perform."

I was still livid with him, "I performed it, remember? Your heir apparent is tucked inside. No need to lay back and think of England. I've got the next Beckham snuggled safe in my womb."

He's strong when he wants to be. His arms encircled me just below my breasts and in one fell swoop he turned me over then kept me from moving by lying, with his full weight, on my back. He grabbed my hair and nibbled on the back of my ear as I continued to wriggle and twist, trying to get away from under him.

"Maggie, you're not very strong are you? "

"You wait…I'll wrench your balls right off of you."

He was breathing as fast as I was. I could feel the full length of our skin touching each other. It was exciting and frustrating at the same time. I wasn't about to give in to him. I felt his hand slip between my thighs, pushing on them to open up. I tried to keep them shut, but he managed to get his leg in to help keep them apart.

"Greg, don't you dare."

The smell of him was starting to get to me; the soap smell was fading fast as his musk overpowered it. My face was partially buried in the pillow, making it hard to talk. He wouldn't let my head up, holding my hair tightly with his fist.

Voice soft and halting, he whispered, "Just a few minutes ago you wanted it."

_"I liked you then!"_

"Come on Maggie, you're so hot when you're angry. You're like a wild horse."

"Fuck you."

"I take it that's a yes."

Pushing my legs further apart, he felt between my slit. I already knew that I was wet and hot. He chuckled when he felt me. His erection took a few tries, but he eventually found the opening. Before he penetrated me he whispered, "I'll stop, just say stop now and I'll stop."

I wanted to say stop, make him suffer, but I was so excited my muscles inside of me were throbbing in anticipation, just waiting for him to fill me up. I said nothing and he rammed me, pushing in as far as he could from that angle. He lifted up, pulling my ass up with him, so I wouldn't have all of his weight on me. Now kneeling behind me, my ass up in the air. He grabbed my hair again and pushed my head down on the pillow. The thrusting was slow at first. I could feel every inch of him sliding in and out as he grew more and more excited, his erection harder.

His voice was hoarse, "I knew you were getting excited. Your whole body was flushing."

"Just shut up and screw me."

He laughed and continued, pulling my head up by the hair. He bent down and kissed my ear as he continued to thrust from behind.

"This white ass of yours, it's so nice and round. And what I'm doing to you looks so hot. I can feel all of your muscles tightening through your thighs and inside of you. There's a lot of friction. Let me feel your breasts."

He dropped my hair and reached around with his hands, grabbing my dangling breasts in both his hands and squeezing them. It was painful because they were still sore. I cried out and he stopped grabbing and began to gently rub them. He pulled up into a kneeling position and slapped my butt with a resounding 'whack.' I turned my head and could see him watching exactly what he was doing, fixated on the sight of him penetrating me. The thrusts were coming hard and fast. Our bodies were slapping together and the sound of him slamming into me was picking up speed. He finally wrapped his arm around my hips, pulling me further into him for deeper penetration just before he groaned and let out a sharp breath.

"Oh yeah! Oh, damn, damn…oh ah…just a few more…"

His hips slammed twice more into me and then he let out a breath. He winced from being so sensitive when he pulled out of me. He kept exhaling loudly, falling over on his back, a sheen of sweat covering him. He was grinning and shaking his head.

"I wish I could quit you."

I sneered, "Not funny, I'm still pissed."

"Well then, let me make you come and dissipate some of the wrath of Mags." He reached between my legs and put several fingers inside of me, wiggling his eyebrows as he did. "You're a cream pie Maggie. I dropped a huge load in there. You'd be pregnant if the last time hadn't taken. Just a minute, I'll be back."

"What? You're abandoning your duties!"

He sounded frustrated, "I'll be right back."

I heard the refrigerator door and then he appeared back with a glass of ice cubes. I looked at him with suspicion.

"You need to trust me, you'll like it." He grabbed some string and winter scarves, tying me up to the bed.

"Greg, I don't know about this. They don't say anything about this in Catechism. This might just be a mortal sin…"

"Well, go down in flames Mags, you'll love it."

"If I say stop, you stop."

He gave me a maniacal look and laughed. The ice was starting to melt as he grabbed a cube and dragged it down between my breasts. He lifted it up and let it drip into my mouth, the coolness felt great as it trickled down my throat. He placed the ice on my nipple. The shock of the cold against my sensitive breasts was both pleasurable and painful. I pulled on the ties in an effort to get away from the ice, but couldn't. I watched as my nipples stood erect. He bent down and tickled each with his tongue and then gently sucked them, looking up at me as he did.

He pulled up and lay on his side dragging the ice the full length of my torso, "You have a beautiful body Maggie, made for fucking. It's taught and perky. He stopped the ice in the nest of my pubic hair and let it sit.

"Greg, that's cold, I …"

He put his hand over my mouth to keep me from talking, then started to play with my clit as he licked and sucked on my breasts. My clit was hot next to the coolness of his fingers. He stabbed back into me and then stuck his fingers into my mouth. I could taste his semen and my juices mixed together.

He took his time playing with my body and I could do nothing, not even protest or he'd silence me with his hand. I could see he was starting to get excited. My legs were splayed. Scooting down , he watched what he was doing to my clit. He licked it and sucked it, then put ice on it. The two different sensations were rushing through me, competing for my attention. He finally began sucking in earnest and I could feel the pressure in my body. It felt like steam building under the lapping of his tongue. My breaths started to shorten and my thighs tighten. He quickly covered my body and entered me. Feeling him sent me over the edge and I started bucking up to meet him as we pounded into each other. My right hand freed up and I grabbed the cheek of his ass to pull him in further.

Just as I started to feel the wave come up, I felt the ice cube as he jammed it up my ass. The orgasm exploded with the combination of hot and cold. The friction of him inside and the contractions around him brought him to climax too. I reached over, grabbed an ice cube and did the same to him.

He jerked up, his eyes wide, mouth open in shock and drew in a deep breath. "Oh fuck!"

I could feel him explode and felt the short strokes inside as we both came. He shuddered and fell over, looking slightly red in the face. I could hear his heart beating.

I rubbed his chest, right above his heart, "Are you okay?"

Nodding, he managed to get out, "That's the most intense thing I've ever felt."

"Come to Geneva…there's more where that came from."

He slapped my hand away, "Damn it, Maggie, you need to move to Princeton!"

"You jerk. It's always about the great Greg House's career. You know, some people think I'm pretty invaluable too." I jumped up and started dressing, "I'm going to go stay with my brother in Philadelphia."

He watched me, saying nothing, looking bored. "Maggie, if you want to get married in the Church so that your child isn't a bastard, you better not go running off to your brother in a huff."

I picked up the pillow and threw it at him. "You are the most frustrating man I've ever met." I plopped down on the edge of the bed, "You know, someone told me that men are like toilets, either vacant, engaged or full of crap. You, Greg, are full of crap."

"I'm going to sleep. I've learned one thing living with you, never argue with you when you're tired or for that matter, when you're rested. Now get back in bed before I take away your credit cards."

"You can't tell me what to do."

Greg closed his eyes, "Fine, run back to your brother." He started mumbling into the pillow and I couldn't understand.

I was so angry I was shaking, _"Would you speak up? I can't understand you."_

"I just said - they say married men live longer than single men, but I just realized married men are a lot more willing to die."

"Marrying you was a big mistake."

"Well then, I'm going to forget I made a mistake, no sense both of us remembering. Good night."

I started walking out to the living room, picking up my things along the way. As I turned to go out the door, he was standing in my way.

"For Gods sakes Maggie, aren't you worn down yet? Come back to bed and we can talk tomorrow when we both aren't as pissed at each other as we are now."

I cocked my head and thought about the drive to Philadelphia in the pouring rain, "Yeah, okay. I'll sleep on the couch."

"Like hell, you're my wife, come back to bed and we'll try to act like adults in the morning."

I followed him back to the bedroom where we both spent some time in the bathroom. When I came out, he was asleep on his stomach. I crawled in bed and pulled the covers up. The apartment was chilly because Greg hadn't turned on the heater. I was cold so I slipped over next to him. He rolled over a little and put his arm around me, letting me feel the warmth coming off of his torso.

"Mags, I know you love me. I know I love you. Now, go to sleep and I'll keep you warm."

I turned in his arms and smiled, "That's quite a feat for a cold son of a bitch like you."

He grinned and shook his head, "Maggie, that's what I love about you. You just can't let it rest, can you?"

I looked away. He was trying to calm the situation down and I was the one acting like the child. I said rather childlike, "I love you too."

"That's a good girl Mags."

I closed my eyes and let him keep me warm, sleeping under his arm.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When I woke up, I looked into his sleeping face and smiled. All my anger had vanished and I just wanted to be there with him.

Without moving a muscle he mumbled, "I can feel you admiring me."

"Yeah, well you're lucky you don't feel a frying pan."

"Talk about frying pans, get out there and cook me something, woman." He opened one eye and looked at me.

I narrowed mine at him, "If I didn't love you so much, I'd …oooohh. I'm going out to make you some breakfast."

"Good girl, I love it when you're submissive."

The day ended with a truce. We both knew that the issue was looming in the background, but we chose to ignore it for a little while. Greg and I drove up to Philadelphia to see Father Martin and I was delighted when he said he would allow Greg to study with Father Maplethorpe, who we called while we were in the Church offices. Greg was to spend an hour a week for the next five weeks going through marriage counseling. I hadn't met Father Maplethorpe, but I could tell by the pain in his voice, that he knew Greg was not going to be that easy to counsel. I secretly smiled to myself, wishing I could be a fly on the wall when they met for their sessions. Father Martin and I talked about the Wedding Mass and the changes that would have to be made to accommodate House's disability.

Father Martin was looking at her file, "Maggie, what about Conor? Your invitations, the prayer cards, well, just about everything says you're marrying Conor."

"We're not going to change anything. Greg likes the irony of it. I'll call you every week to make sure we're on track."

We went back to Princeton where I spent one more night with my legs wrapped around Greg House and then drove back to Philadelphia, spent the night with my brother and flew out the next day back to Geneva.

No one was there to meet me and when I got to the townhouse Conor and his things were gone. He did take the Ipod player. He had bought the Harmon Karmon player, I bought the matching six speakers. If he wanted it, that was the least I could do after what I had just put him through.

I spent four weeks as the absent wedding planner. Thank God Theresa was as excited as I was about the wedding, because she coordinated everything that I couldn't. I had one big problem. I had purchased my bridal gown before I knew I was pregnant and it was a strapless, corset bodice, satin band around the hips and a smooth trail. In other words, it was very fitted and I wasn't. I had to fly back a week before the wedding to be refitted.

Theresa came with me to the fitting and started laughing. "Maggie, you're bigger this time than you were with Bridget. I'm not saying you're big, not by any means. It's just funny to see how big you've gotten in one month. What does Conor say about your figure?"

I didn't lie, "He doesn't. Does it look that bad?"

Theresa shook her head violently, "Oh, no! You look like Venus on the half shell. I always envied how gorgeous you looked when you were pregnant. Your body fills out in just the right places. When does Conor get in?"

"Hmmm, good question. The groom will arrive the day of the wedding."

"That's cutting it close, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is."

"So, who's coming in from his side"

"The groom?"

She looked at me, head tilted in confusion, "Yes, the groom, Conor."

"Well, my future mother-in-law and father-in-law are coming. His aunt Sarah and her family. The best man and a few people from work. That's it."

"It's a shame more couldn't come over from Ireland."

I looked in the mirror as the salesclerk, my cousin Maura, tried to zip me up. They had just let it out around my hips and waist, but my breasts weren't giving an inch. I'm sure I almost heard the zipper groan.

Maura shook her head, "Maggie, your breasts have definitely gotten bigger. We're going to have to let out the corset."

I was worried, it had taken them two weeks to let out the bodice. "Do we have time?"

"I'll put a rush on it."

We got into the car and Theresa turned to me, "Maggie, what's going on. You were pretty evasive in there."

I sighed. "Conor's not the father of my baby."

Her mouth dropped and she wrinkled her nose. "Does Conor know?"

I nodded.

She seemed to relax. Then it hit her, "Who's the father?" I must have given her a look. She squeezed her eyes shut and winced, "Oh no! Not Greg?"

I looked over at her, but didn't answer. I guess my look said everything.

"When? Where?"

"Hawaii."

"When you went to Hawaii? He was there?"

"Yeah."

"And you had an affair?"

"Yes and no. Oh, Theresa, I need to tell someone on this end. Greg and I were married in Hawaii. I got pregnant the same day."

She gasped. Theresa stared at me, unable to say anything at first and then it all came rushing out, "Oh my God! But Conor, I thought you loved Conor?"

I sighed, "I did. I wasn't lying."

"But Greg shows up and you spread your legs."

"Great, thanks Theresa. That makes it sound so romantic."

She turned up her palms and smiled, "Painful, but true. You're a slut when it comes to that man. He's gotten you pregnant twice."

"He's my husband!"

"Really? I mean, you really got married in Hawaii?"

"Oh yeah."

"So, I'm confused. Why are we going through with a wedding for you and Conor?"

"We aren't. Greg will be the groom standing at the altar and if you want to know which one I'll be, it's the one with my legs spread."

She giggled. "Oh this will be good. I just realized, Greg's not Catholic, was he ever baptized?"

She was concerned that we would not be able to have a Nuptial Ritual, so that we could take the Sacrament, "His parents had him baptized Episcopalian when he was a baby. So we will be able to have a Sacrament. Or at least, I will. It's hard to believe that he's not a heathen in the eyes of the Church!"

"Little do they know! Oh, Thank God. Strange, I can't see Greg being baptized into any faith. Where are you two going to live?"

"That's still a bone of contention."

"What do you mean by that?"

We needed to swing by the caterers and bakers, so Theresa drove as I contemplated. "I want him to come to Europe. He wants me to move back to Princeton. We've been arguing about it for the last four weeks. I've slammed the receiver down on him the last six calls."

Theresa winced, "Maggie, I'm selfish. I'd like to see you move to Princeton. Can't the CDC give you a job here?"

"The only jobs that send us to places like Princeton or Philadelphia or Trenton are field jobs when there is an outbreak. Closest I could get would be Washington. But, that's still a plane ride away."

Theresa looked briefly at me, "So you'd have to give up your career at the CDC?"

I nodded, "Everything that I worked for, I'd have to give up."

"Oh, dear. That is asking a lot. What about Greg, though?"

"He's entrenched. I know of lots of hospitals that would be willing to tolerate him now that he's established himself as the best at what he does, but they aren't as prestigious or as accommodating as PPTH. His boss has a soft spot for him and lets him get away with murder. I'm afraid that this is a Mexican standoff."

"Sure seems like it."

"I'm driving down tomorrow and we're going to 'talk'," I sighed.

"Yikes, that sounds ominous."

"Please don't tell anyone about any of this. Greg is enjoying the fact that everyone is going to expect Conor to show up next week at the wedding."

"Maggie, you've always led the most interesting life of anyone I know."

"Yeah, lonely too. I can't tell you how much I want Greg, but the price is so high. Here's the kicker, if I pay the price, will we be able to make it work? We're not exactly the easiest of people to live with."

Theresa laughed, "Funny, the only man I could ever picture you with was Greg. I saw how alive you were around him. You're vibrant and feisty when he's in your life. It reminds all of us of when you were in your twenties. He'll certainly keep you on your toes."

"Don't I know it."

Theresa's mouth dropped open and she stared at me with horror, "Oh my God! I just realized that Greg House is going to be the baby's father…I mean a _real father_. That's it! I'm going to confession! I'm sure the end is near and I need to have my sins absolved."

"Funny."


	46. Chapter 25 Part I Will He Stay

**Maggie's Story**

**Chapter 25**

**Will He Stay or Will He Go?**

The drive to Princeton was windy. Maggie could feel her rental car being blown all over the road. She wondered if this was a foreshadowing of things to come. For some reason, she couldn't help but think this was going to be the biggest step in their relationship, except when he cheated on her. She drove onto his street and found a parking spot about half a block away. When she got to the door, she almost knocked, then realized that she was his wife, so she tried the knob and it opened. He was sitting on the leather sofa, watching television. Looking over his shoulder as Maggie walked through the door, he gave her a smile. But, he didn't get up. Maggie ran back to the bathroom and then went into the kitchen to get something to drink. She grabbed a cranapple drink, which he had obviously bought for her, and took it into the living room.

"How was the drive?" He asked.

"Almost got blown off the road a few times. It's really windy out there."

He nodded and patted for her to sit next to him. She crawled up under his arm and he gave her a kiss. "Are you hungry?"

She looked at her watch, it was noon. "Yeah, I could eat something."

"I bought some bread and some peanut butter and jam."

She nodded, amused at his offer.

"I also bought some cold cuts, just in case pbj wasn't to your liking."

"God! I knew I loved you for a reason." She jumped up and ran into the kitchen, scrounging through the bin in the refrigerator. "Would you like a ham sandwich?"

"Sure."

They ate and watched television, but both of them knew that there was an 800 lb gorilla in the room.

After the _Dog Whisperer,_ House looked down into Maggie's gray eyes, "Should we make love or fight over you moving to Princeton?"

"Well, sex might mellow us, but then, makeup sex is great."

He sighed, "If there is makeup sex."

"Greg…"

He put a finger on her lips, "Let's go make love. It might ease the tension. You're about as tight as a rubber band wound around Kirstie Alley's waist."

She knew he was probably hedging his bets. The sex would release the tension, but just in case there was a real blowout, at least he'd get laid. It didn't matter to Maggie. The only thing she had been looking forward to the whole drive down was holding him, smelling him and feeling his arms around her body. He made her feel cocooned when he did that. It was as if nothing could get in to upset her when she was rolled up in his arms.

"Sex it is. Any thoughts on how you'd like it?"

"I want it to be slow and last a long time."

She chuckled, "I guess that will depend on you, huh?"

"Don't worry, I beat off this morning in the shower to a tv guide picture of Uma Thurman…just to take the edge off of seeing your breasts today."

"Oh, well. I hope I can live up to Uma."

He got up and gave her a hand, "I do too."

House started to undress when he got back to the bedroom. Maggie went to the bathroom to brush her teeth. House followed her into the bathroom dressed just in his boxers.

"Boy, you were quick." She motioned to his state of undress.

He shrugged, "Just taking care of the preliminaries."

When he was done brushing his teeth, he went back out to the bedroom and saw her taking off her shirt. Underneath was a low-cut lacy scarlet red bra with a clasp at the front.

He wiggled his eyebrows, "Please tell me you have the matching panties?"

She undid the trousers and he smiled as she pulled them down. Not only did she have the matching panties, but they were crotchless. Maggie snickered when she saw the front of his boxers move in response.

"I may make love to you just like that."

"That's one option."

He grinned and walked up to her, taking a finger he ran it down the outline of her bra along the top of her breasts. She slipped her hand into his boxers and found a willing erection waiting to be touched. He stopped and allowed himself just to feel her silky palm as it slid up and down in a smooth motion.

When he knew it was building too fast, he backed her up to the bed and together the fell on it. She could smell him, the woodsy, mossy smell of his after-shave with his own musk. He was breathing through his nose, pulling in her scent-- the herbal shampoo, Dove soap, her smell. He felt overwhelmed. He missed her, missed just touching her, smelling her, hearing her talk about what was for dinner. For a minute he thought he must be getting old if just sitting around with Maggie thrilled him. But, he knew it wasn't just sitting around. It was the thought that at any minute something combustible might happen. A joke, a tickle, a laugh, a fight. He never knew what Maggie would do and he wanted his life to be with someone unpredictable.

Maggie straddled him, "Greg? You somewhere else?"

He realized that he was staring off into space. Smiling at her, he reached down and opened his mouth over hers, letting his tongue run the length of her lips. He let it out unexpectedly, "Maggie, don't leave me."

Maggie froze, her heart twisted. He sounded like a little boy, begging for someone to check under the bed for the boogie man. He was truly afraid. "Oh Greg, we can figure it out. Let's just concentrate on how good this feels to be with each other."

He snorted and nodded, his eyes soft, hair sticking up on top. She patted it down and then unsnapped the bra to distract him. It did the trick. As soon as the pink nippled breasts flashed before him, his hands came up, touching them, holding them. He lifted his head up to suckle one.

"Are they still tender?"

"No, it's much better."

He sucked even harder, nipping her breast a little before running his hand down her back, to the edge of her panties. The thought that she was there, her sex ready to be taken, was exciting. He ran his hands down the curve of her ass and finally around to her thighs. A finger was inserted into her slit. Finding her wet and ready, House grabbed her, pulled her down to him and kissed her again.

"Get on." He ordered.

She lifted a leg and lowered herself, allowing both of them to experience the feel of his head against the warmth of her entrance. Then she dropped partially onto him. He bucked up and Maggie could feel him all the way to her cervix. She let out a little gasp.

"Okay?" He asked.

"Uh-huh. It was just a lot to take at once. You're really hard."

"Blame it on those breasts and that ass. You look great in red crotchless underwear. You need to wear them more often."

"Deal."

He grabbed both sides of her ass and pushed her up a little and then let her slide back down. Knees on the bed, Maggie began to grind herself up and down on his penis, making House close his eyes and breath fast. Purposefully contracting her vagina, House could feel the kneading effect and the friction each time she tightened around him.

"Oh God Mags, you must want this over quickly. You keep doing that and I'm going to drop a load that'll leak 'til Christmas."

"Want me to slow down, stop what I'm doing?"

"I want to change positions."

"What?"

"I want to look into your eyes as I fuck you. I want you on your back."

Maggie had to admit missionary was one of her favorites. She didn't get off usually unless he played with her clit, but she loved his body covering hers, his face near hers, the blue eyes boring into hers. There was a sense of surrendering her body that came with the missionary position. She pulled off of him and saw the wet shaft covered with some semen and her wetness mixed together.

Rolling onto her back, she opened her legs.

"No, close them a little."

She closed her legs almost all the way. He positioned his legs on the outside and found her slit. Penetrating her again, House found the sensations heating up. Maggie realized that, from this position, he was rubbing her clitoris with his body. The penetration wasn't as deep, but Maggie wasn't complaining.

House kissed Maggie again and then nibbled her ear. She took small nips along his shoulder, the pain contrasting with the feel of her clit sliding along his shaft as he screwed her. Maggie discovered that she was on the verge of coming. The pressure behind her clit and inside of her was building. Her thighs and abdomen contracted. He knew she was going to come just from the look on her face and the tightness in the muscles. Just a few more thrusts and she would be screaming.

Maggie opened her mouth, her eyes turning blue. He kept the rhythm steady until her face crumbled into an orgasmic spasm. She could feel the waves of the orgasm traveling up the inside of her vagina to her uterus continuing to her breasts. House grabbed one of the legs quickly and lifted it to get a better angle and deeper penetration. He started thrusting wildly into her, his own explosion ripping through him as the waves of her orgasms grabbed and released him over and over. He was amazed at how long her orgasm was lasting, sucking out the very last ounce of semen out of him. When it was over they both started laughing.

"Damn Maggie, you can't say we don't have great sex."

"Oh, I've never said that Greg. You've always scored high marks in that area."

They went quiet, knowing that they'd soon have to address the problem, wishing it was already sorted. He was holding her tightly, not wanting her to talk. She waited, letting the moment seep into their pores.

Finally, Maggie pulled back and spoke up, her blue-grey eyes worried, "Greg, what about this? You come over to live with me for a year; if you don't like it, I'll come back to the States no matter what it takes."

He wrinkled his nose and narrowed his eyes, "You call that a solution?"

She raised up a little, "Well, what's your compromise?"

"My compromise was just completed. I just finished a month course on marriage and promised to raise the kid Catholic so that you could get married in the Catholic Church. Now, follow me to Princeton where we live happily ever after."

She tried not to get upset, to stay calm. "I was just informed that I'm going to head up the WHO Avian flu task force. Do you know what a coup this is for the CDC? Usually, they refuse to appoint an American to lead these International Committees. They don't like giving us power. But, I've worked hard to gain everyone's trust and they voted for me. I can't let the CDC down or the USA. It's important work."

"According to Father Maplethorpe, our marriage takes priority. Our kid takes priority. And I get to choose where the family lives…you know, the whole, head of household thing. Males reign supreme. Just a second and I'll beat my chest."

Her eyebrows were knitted, her face taut, "Please don't make fun of this, it's important to me, to us. We have to cut through the crap and figure this out."

House turned towards her and narrowed his eyes, "Maggie, I'll cut through the crap for you. This is over if you don't commit to living in Princeton."

She balled her fist, "Oh that's so typical of you. If I don't get my way, then it's the high-way."

"_No! _ I remember a woman asking me to marry her, and if I didn't, she was going to marry another man. I asked her to come with me and she refused. Now I'm marrying her and the rules have changed. She still won't come with me."

Maggie jumped up and started dressing. "_I'm going to Philadelphia!_ On Saturday I'll be at the church waiting for you to marry me. If you're there, I'll assume that you want to work it out. If not, then …well whatever that means I'm sure you'll let me know."

House started shaking a finger at her, yelling, "If between now and Friday you don't come to your senses and tell me you're moving here, the only thing I'm doing Saturday is flying to Hawaii with that tape to get an annulment on the grounds that we were drunk and _stupid_."

Maggie eyes flashed deep, deep blue, her teeth bared, "Well, I guess one of us is going to be disappointed, right?"

House calmed down, looked at her and felt his future falling apart, "Right."

He was still in bed when the door slammed shut. He was hurt and angry. He didn't like feeling hurt, so he decided to be angry, it was easier for him to live with anger. He went over and over in his mind how stubborn she was being and how the CDC and the USA would survive without Maggie Malone heading up the Avian Flu Task Force.

House stared at the ceiling, it was only two in the afternoon and yet he didn't feel like getting out of bed. He decided to take some Vicodin and read some journals, hoping the new article on assay tests would make him nap. Turned out, he read the article. He wasn't sleeping.


	47. Chapter 25 Part II Will He Stay?

**Chapter 25 Part II**

**Will He Stay Or Will He Go?**

_There I go again, crying. I guess if I didn't love him so much I wouldn't cry. How can he be so insensitive, to assume that his career is the only one that matters? _

Maggie had a hard time staying on the road. It was not only windy, but raining hard. She was having a hard time seeing in front of her when the pair of taillights came out of nowhere. She braked and the car went hydro-sailing across two lanes of traffic. Maggie could feel the car start turning in circles as it spun to the side of the road. She ended up on the shoulder facing in the right direction. There wasn't a scratch on the car or on her. She had survived.

Traffic slowed and stared at her, amazed that she wasn't hurt. Maggie was shaking so hard, she couldn't even start the stalled car. A policeman pulled up in back of her and ran through the rain to her passenger window. She rolled it down.

"Ma'am you okay?"

"Yes, officer, just shaken. I'll be fine in a few minutes, thanks for checking."

"That was some spectacle. God must love you lady."

Maggie thought about it, did the sign of the cross and nodded, "You know officer, you're right."

Ten minutes later, the rain was subsiding and Maggie was able to stop shaking long enough to get on the road. She made it back to her brother's house forty-five minutes later. When she got out, she took a deep breath and thanked God again.

House was worried about Maggie, with the rain and the wind, he was afraid she might be hurt. When she didn't bother to call after two hours, he called her.

"Hello, Greg." Maggie saw the caller i.d.

"Are you at your brother's?"

"Yes."

"You could have called and let me know you made it okay."

She sighed, "I wasn't sure you wanted to hear from me."

"I'm pissed at you Maggie, but that's still my baby you're carrying."

She chortled, "Oh, so it's the baby you're worried about."

"Don't go there. Don't make inferences that you know aren't true. I'm glad you're safe too."

She tried to sound nicer, "Anything else?" _Please tell me you love me, that you'll be there Saturday, that you have faith we'll work it out. Please Greg, just say you love me._

"No, that's it unless you have something to tell me?" There was a deep silence, "Fine. Bye."

"Bye."

Their phones went dead and they each felt worse than they did before.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Maggie got on her knees every day of the week. _In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Dear Lord, I'm putting my trust and faith in you that whatever happens is for the best. I won't be selfish and ask you to send Greg to me, but if you're wondering what to give me for my wedding, a groom would rank pretty high up. I love him. If that love isn't enough, then I understand that you have to do what you have to do. But, please remember that for eighteen years, I've paid my dues. I've worked my butt off, had my heart broken and been lonelier than any one person should be. Please give me a break._

When Maggie was done, she would climb in bed and look up at the ceiling, _God, I hope I didn't offend you. I hope you have a sense of humor. That's stupid, of course you do, you matched me up with Greg._

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

There was a lot of preparation to be done. The reception flowers had to be approved. The disc jockey wanted a list of music they wanted played at the reception. Changes to the meal had to be made when the caterer told Maggie that they couldn't get enough Truffles for the truffle soup, not unless she wanted some flown in from France, making the soup more expensive than her dress. Maggie declined, opting for a delicious squash soup.

Theresa cornered the nervous Maggie when she returned to Philadelphia early. "Maggie, what if he doesn't show?"

"I won't be the first bride stood up at the altar."

"Oh Maggie, this is a mess. He can't leave you and the baby at the altar! Even Greg has to have a heart."

"You don't know Greg. If there's a point to be made, he'll make it. No matter how painful or who it hurts, even if it's him."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Charlie Caves sat in his chair eyeing the strange man sitting in front of him with the short beard, blue eyes and bum leg. The blue-eyed man had called, asking for a free consultation and Charlie had obliged. The man looked as if he hadn't slept for a long time. He was hoping to get rid of him as soon as possible, Charlie had a motion being heard tomorrow morning in Judge Sharpe's chambers and he needed to work on it.

"Dr. House, your wife lives in Geneva. You could get the annulment here, but it's going to take some time because you weren't married here and she resides somewhere other than where you reside." Charlie watched as House frowned and looked away, obviously ticked off that he couldn't file on Friday and have the marriage dissolved by Monday.

"What's the quickest way to get an annulment?"

Charlie shook his head, "Will she contest it?"

House thought about it, "Yeah, probably."

"Well, I'd take your tape and fly to Hawaii. Since you got married there, they've got jurisdiction. It's doubtful they'll deny an annulment if, as you say, you both appear very drunk on the DVD."

House accepted the advice, nodded and went back to the hospital, arriving in time to get the lab results for his patient. He went online and booked a flight for Saturday to Oahu, returning on Tuesday. He was trying to figure out how he could get the hospital to pay for it, but couldn't find a medical seminar on the island.

Wilson stopped in, "Hey, Chase, your team and I have put together a little non-bachelor's party for you tonight at the Tower Club. I'll swing by and get you at seven-thirty, okay?"

"Will there be any lap dancing? Booze?"

Wilson chuckled, "I think Larry may be arranging the lap dance. I'm handling the bar tab."

House nodded, figuring he might as well enjoy the free booze and sexual fondling while he could.

The lap dancer had a hard time giving a lap dance to a guy with a bad thigh. So she finally offered to take House into the mens room and give him a blow job, much to the delight of the men standing around. They all enjoyed watching House try to squirm out of it. But the woman was persistent, sure that there was a good tip in it, after all he was a doctor.

House blushed a little, catching the brunette coed off guard, "Look, I'm actually married already, civil ceremony. Saturday is the religious one. I'll pass on the blow job, but I wouldn't mind a little fondling."

She smiled and whispered, "Me or you?"

"Huh?"

She whispered, "Do you want to fondle me or me fondle you."

House's eyes flew open, "Oh! I'm thinking that you do the fondling."

She smiled and deftly unzipped his fly, reaching in and grabbing his penis.

The men around him all laughed. House grabbed her hand.

"I was thinking through the fabric…"

She tilted her head and hung on to his dick for dear life, "Are you gay?"

Everyone around him roared as House turned red. "No…it's just …" He leaned in and whispered, "Look, if you come around next Saturday to my apartment, then maybe we can play. But right now, I'm still married and I need to behave if I'm going to get the damn thing annulled."

She looked at him, baffled, "But I thought you were getting married on Saturday…or that you were already married."

"Long story, but I won't be married next Saturday. Here…" House wrote his address on his card, "Come by around nine and we can have some fun."

She nodded, fondled him a little and left with an adequate tip.

As House got out of the car, Wilson gave him a smug look, "I pick you up at 11:00 am on Saturday, right? When do we have to be at the Church?"

"Pick me up at eleven, I need a ride to the airport. Oh and I'm not going to pay for your tuxedo rental either."

Wilson was confused, jumping out of the car and following House to his front door. "Whoa…what's going on?"

"I'm not sure yet. Either Maggie calls me and tells me she's going to live with me here in Princeton, and we're on for Saturday or I fly to Hawaii to get this farce of a marriage annulled."

"House, you can't mean that! You've loved Maggie forever…you have a child on the way."

House couldn't look at him, "Whether we're married or not, that kid is on the way. She either commits to a real marriage, here in Princeton--where she belongs, or it's over."

"You're asking Maggie to decide between you and her career?"

"Yep, should be a no-brainer if she loves me as much as she says she does."

Wilson was clearly disappointed in him, "But Maggie's pretty high up the food chain to ask her to start over."

House pursed his lips, "She won't have to start completely over. Hell, half the hospitals on the East Coast would die to have her on staff."

"You're a real ass. You two have enough money, you should be able to come up with some compromise.

"Call me Saturday morning; I have plane tickets for two in the afternoon. If she doesn't call and tell me she's moving to Princeton, then I'm on the plane."

"I can't believe you'd hurt Maggie like that after all she's done for you."

House slammed a fist on the door, "Hey! I'm the injured party here. She expects me to give up my career for her. It's not just Maggie who has something to lose."

Wilson thought about it and could see his point. House could find another job easily, there were hospitals dying to hire him. But Wilson doubted seriously that another hospital would keep him for long, once he pulled one of his antics. Cuddy was the only one who seemed to understand and put up with House. "Let me know." Wilson went back to the car and drove off.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Friday, House made sure his cell phone was on, checking frequently for any messages, even plugging it in to recharge every time he went back to his desk. He called his home answering machine late in the afternoon, just in case she had called him at home, but it was blank too. Knowing Maggie, she was so stubborn he knew she wouldn't give in. Feeling anxious, House realized that he had painted himself into a corner. He shouldn't have said he'd get the annulment; the threat of not coming up for the Catholic ceremony would have been painful enough to make his point. But, he couldn't back down now; he had to get it across to her that he was serious about her living in Princeton. Without her in Princeton, there was no marriage.

Maggie went to pick up her dress, praying that it would fit her expamding breasts and abdomen. The dress was snug, but she could sit in it and that's what counted. Theresa told her she was beautiful, but Maggie didn't seem to care, her mind and heart were on Greg and what he planned to do. They drove to the Church and went over the final preparations with Father Martin, who showed Maggie the marriage counseling certificate that Father Maplethorpe had sent him.

Maggie took it, "I promise that I'm going to have this framed and hang it in the living room as a reminder to him of how sacred our marriage is to God… and me." When Maggie and Theresa finally got back to her brother's house she asked Theresa, "Did he try to call here?"

Theresa looked at the phone for the message light and then shook her head slowly, sadly

Maggie bit her lower lip, "I'm going to pray really hard tonight for a miracle."

Theresa hugged the sad, pregnant woman, "I will too, Mags."

Maggie soaked in the warm tub of scented bath oils and let the tears run down her cheek. She had a bad feeling, like she had been spared being hurt on the expressway because God was going to smite her down tomorrow in front of friends and family. The forty year old pregnant woman, who tried to have it all, would get her comeuppance tomorrow. Maggie wished she could drink, tonight would be a good time to get drunk.

Saturday was cold, with a crisp wind out of the west, but not wet. Maggie woke up, took a deep breath and started her preparations for her wedding. The bridesmaids arrived, bubbly and ready to get dress. Maggie gave Theresa, her niece, Mary, and Meggie their gifts to wear with their dresses, a half-karat pair of diamond earrings. They all screamed with glee when they opened them. As they were eating a light breakfast in the conservatory, Maggie tried to join in the playful banter, but she kept missing golden opportunities for a dig or a tease. Theresa could tell Maggie was trying too hard to be happy. There was an edginess that made Theresa feel that Maggie could crack any minute.

When it was time to go to the Church, the women all piled into Theresa's SUV , complete with dresses, shoes, makeup bags and jewelry. Arriving at the Church around noon, they went back to the changing room. Maggie's hairdresser combed out the short reddish-blonde hair and applied makeup to the forty year old face.

Meggie shook her head and smiled, "Mags you look like you're thirty. You look gorgeous. Now let's get your dress on."

Mags put on her slip and stepped into her dress, pulling it over her breasts and zipping it up. She stood in front of the mirror praying that Greg would show and see how pretty she looked. Maggie and the bride's party had to stop now and again for photos.

The photographer took Maggie aside. "The groom and best man haven't arrived yet. We only have an hour and fifteen minutes before the wedding."

Maggie's heart tightened in her chest, "I'm sorry, I know he's running late, we'll just have to take less photos of him getting ready."

The photographer took a couple more of Maggie and Theresa and then left. Maggie excused herself and went into the bathroom. Theresa found Maggie's purse and cell phone, grabbing it and going outside to the vestibule.

She found 'Greg' under contacts and dialed. The phone rang several times and Theresa thought it would go to voice mail, but it was finally picked up.

"Yeah Mags?" The voice was gruff, mean.

"Greg? This is Theresa, where are you?"

There was a long pause, "Theresa? Where's Maggie?"

"Crying in the bathroom. Where are you? You're late!" But Theresa knew where he was; she could hear flights being announced in the background.

"I'm in the bar at the airport with Wilson. Theresa, I'm not coming to the wedding and you can tell Maggie that. I'm flying out to Hawaii for an annulment. And, how did you know it was me and not Conor going to this wedding?"

"_Because Conor wouldn't have let Maggie down like this."_

House flipped the phone shut, slamming it on the bar. Wilson realized that whatever Theresa had just said had pissed House off.

"House, if we leave now, we can get to the church in time. Come on, let's go take care of Maggie. It's Maggie, House, remember? Remember when you hurt your leg? When you were shot? Whenever you had a CDC problem? She always took care of _you._ Let's go take care of Maggie. Let's make her happy for once."

"Shut the hell up. I'm going to Hawaii. Bartender, another whiskey."


	48. Chapter 25 Part III Will He Stay?

**Chapter 25 Part III**

**Will He Stay or Will He Go**

Theresa ran down the path to find Jack. She turned the corner and saw her handsome husband standing with his two goons he called his, "assistants." She ran up to him.

"Jack, we've got us a real donnybrook here. Maggie isn't marrying Conor…"

Jack jumped up, "Whadaya mean she isn't marrying Conor?"

"Maggie and Greg were married in Hawaii about six weeks ago." Theresa saw that Jack was going to say something, "For Chris' sake, shut up and let me finish!" Jack pulled his head back, his wife rarely screamed at him, "Anyway, he was going to show up today for the religious ceremony. He went through the marriage counseling, got the certificate, everything. It was going to be a big surprise. But, they got into a fight. Greg wants Maggie to give up her job and move to Princeton. Maggie wants Greg to move to Europe. They couldn't agree. Greg told Maggie that if she didn't call him by Friday to tell him she was moving to Princeton, he was flying to Hawaii to get an annulment. Well, I just talked to him. He's at the airport."

"What airline?"

"I don't know Jack, it was a short conversation! You need to go get him."

Jack looked at her, "And how am I supposed to get him to come back and marry my sister?"

"Damn it Jack, it shouldn't be that hard." She looked at his two assistants. "These two love each other; they never stopped loving each other. They're going to have a kid together. Come on, get your ass moving and _don't come back unless you have Greg House with you!_"

Jack shrugged his shoulders and motioned for his goons to follow him. They jumped in the car and took off for the airport, hoping they were headed to the right airport.

Theresa went back to the dressing room where Meggie stood somberly.

"Where is she?" Theresa asked.

Meggie frowned, "She's still in there crying her heart out. What's going on?"

Theresa took a deep breath, "Long story, but we may be in for a lot of heartache today so hold onto your seats."

Mary glanced up, from her looks you could tell that she was all Malone, looking like a combination of Jack and Maggie, "Mom? Didn't Uncle Conor make it? Was his plane late?"

"Honey, she's not marrying Uncle Conor…I mean, Conor. She and Uncle Greg got married."

Meggie shook her head in shock, "_What? Are you talking about Greg House?"_

"Mom, who's Uncle Greg?"

Meggie looked at the beautiful teen, "He was my boyfriend before your aunt stole him from me. He's a doctor that used to live with your aunt when she was in med school."

"The one who got shot?"

Meggie and Theresa both nodded.

"Your aunt has always loved him."

Mary was still confused, "But the baby? Doesn't Uncle Conor want the baby?"

A voice came from behind Theresa, "The baby is Greg's too. I'm sorry honey, we wanted everyone to be surprised, but it looks like I'm the one getting the surprise." Maggie stood, her eyes swollen and red.

Mary went over and hugged her Aunt, who was a good three inches shorter than her. Mary was almost seventeen, slender and gorgeous. She had a soft spot in her heart for her Aunt Maggie. She loved her mother's sisters too, but Maggie was her favorite aunt. She was even thrilled when people said she looked like her, because everywhere she went, they always said that Maggie Malone was the prettiest girl in the neighborhood. Mary thought Maggie was still beautiful, although her eyes were puffed up from crying.

Maggie let go of Mary and then went to sit in front of the mirror. She examined her eyes, "How long do you think is a polite time to wait before announcing that your groom stood you up at the altar?"

Theresa knew Maggie wasn't speaking metaphorically, she really wanted to know. "I'd say half an hour."

Maggie nodded, "I thought that would be just about right. Look, there's all that food and a disc jockey at the reception. Please make sure everyone goes and has a good time on me. If he doesn't show, I'm going to try and change my ticket to leave for Geneva tonight. I won't feel like staying here. I hope you understand? Could you make sure everything gets taken care of? If there are any bills, I'll make sure that they get paid."

Theresa patted Maggie's hand, "Oh Mags, keep praying. Maybe Greg will come to his senses."

"I doubt it."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jack looked at the departure board. There was a flight boarding for Hawaii in ten minutes on Delta. The gate was in the same terminal. Now he just had to find him. He figured if he was Greg, he'd be in the bar.

House looked up from his drink, "Oh shit. Here comes Big Brother and the Holding Company."

Wilson turned to see a man who looked like Maggie coming towards them.

Jack stopped in front of Greg's table, "Greg."

"Jack."

"Come on Greg, you have a wedding to attend. Let's get you to the church."

House looked at the two, big, strapping Irish guys and then back to Jack, "Are these two guys going to 'make me an offer I can't refuse'?"

"I guess I could have them drag you out of here, but I'm hoping you come on your own volition."

"I'm flying to Hawaii to get an annulment. Your sister and I have been fighting about where she's going to live. She's refusing to live with her husband in Princeton and I'm not moving to Europe. So you see Jack, there's no marriage if we aren't together."

"Greg, do you love my sister?"

House wouldn't answer.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"We fight over everything, Jack. Everyday there's at least something we fight about. I'm not sure I want to go through life fighting with Maggie."

Jack laughed, "You're preaching to the choir. You forget I lived with Maggie for a long time. You don't think we didn't fight? Every day we fought. The question you have to ask yourself isn't if you want to put up with the fighting, but whether you can live your life without it? Think of not having Maggie in your face for the rest of your life."

Wilson was surprised, Jack had hit a chord. House had to turn away at the thought, unable to face anyone.

Jack chuckled, "Now ask yourself, is there anyone you'd rather fight with?" He waited but there was no response from House. "Does she make you nuts when she's with you and lonely when she isn't?"

House gave a short nod.

"Then you have your answer. You love Maggie, you can't imagine not having her in your life, you can't imagine fighting with anyone but her, and you're lonely without her. Let's not forget she's giving you a kid now."

House held up a finger, "That's actually not a positive in my book; you may want to leave it out."

"You wait, in another year that will be a positive too. But, okay, let's just stick to Mags."

House shook his head, "Jack, she refuses to live with me. I can't go to Europe, my career is here."

Jack started laughing, "Greg, for someone who's supposed to be a great observer of people, you flunk Maggie 101. When you were sick in med school, who cleaned you up and took care of you?" Jack didn't really want an answer, so he continued, "Who flew back from Africa to your side when your girlfriend dumped your ass and left you to fend for yourself when you were in a wheelchair? Who dropped everything and ran to your side when you got shot? Greg, Maggie prizes family above everything. She's just stubborn. You backed her into a corner didn't you?"

"I gave her an ultimatum."

"And what does Maggie do when someone backs her into a corner?"

The two goons smiled at each other, they'd heard about the fiery Maggie Malone.

House gave him a frown, acknowledging that Jack was right, "She comes out swinging."

"You just have to give my sister some time. She'll pick family…she'll always pick family; she'll pick you over everything else. I give her three months and she'll be back in Princeton. Give her some rope and let her think it was her decision."

The announcer announced that Delta Airlines Flight 1545 was boarding. The men all looked at each other, wondering what House was going to do. House grabbed his things and walked to the Delta counter.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Maggie took a deep breath and smiled at Theresa, Meggie and Mary. "Well, it's two-thirty, I think my guests deserve an explanation."

Maggie stood, looking magnificent in her gown and veil. She walked from the dressing room to the Church, head high, shoulders back. She met Fathers Martin and Maplethorpe standing just outside the vestry.

"Fathers, I was just going to come find you. I don't think Greg is going to show. We…we had a fight. A big one. I think it's over. I was just hoping that he'd change his mind, but…" Maggie could feel herself choking up. So she paused and took a breath. "I'm going inside to tell everyone what's going on."

Father Martin took her hand, "I think I just saw Jack in the parking lot. Why don't you let him tell everyone?"

She shook her head, trying to appear steadfast, "No, this is my mess, I'll tell everyone."

The young priest nodded, "I'll be with you Maggie."

"Thank you father."

They both followed Maggie through the door to the altar. Theresa, Meggie and Mary watched from behind the curtain. A hush came over the congregation. Maggie stood, looking magnificent and strong. Everyone was curious as to why the beautiful bride, her veil turned back on her head, was standing in the middle of the altar about to address them.

"Friends, family. I am so grateful that you came today to share this moment with me. However, the wedding that you were going to attend, Conor and I getting married, was never going to take place." There was a deep murmur through the crowd. "Five weeks ago I was married in Hawaii to Dr. Gregory House. Many of you may remember that he and I dated when I was in med school. Today we were going to make it official with the Church. Unfortunately, he's …" Maggie stopped midstream, looking down, trying to gain her composure. She took another deep breath, "He's…"

Maggie looked down the aisle and could make out the form of a man, the silhouette of someone leaning on a cane. Her heart started beating so fast, she thought she'd pass out.

His voice rang out from the back, "Late as usual. But, now that I'm here with my best man, let's get this party started."

House walked down the aisle, dressed in a yellow Hawaiian shirt, levis and a Navy sports jacket. Maggie chuckled to herself, but she wasn't going to stop the ceremony just so he could go change. Jim followed behind House, dressed in a polo shirt, slacks, sports coat and shined shoes. Theresa, Meggie and Mary threw back the curtain and joined Maggie, hugging her and handing her the bouquet.

Jack laughed as House made his way up the aisle, telling Theresa that House had gone up to the Delta counter, demanded a refund and then turned to Wilson, Jack and his goons, "If I'm going to do this, we better get going now before I change my mind."

By the time they reached the vows, House was truly bored and ready to get to the party.

Father Martin looked at House, "Gregory Scott House, will you take Mary Magdalena Malone here present, for your lawful wedded wife according to the rite of our Holy Mother, the Catholic Church?"

House rolled his eyes, but only Maggie could see it, "Of course I will."

Father Martin continued, "Gregory Scott House, please repeat after me, 'I, Gregory Scott House, take you, Maggie Magdalena Malone, for my wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.'_"_

"I, Gregory Scott House, take you, Maggie Magdalena Malone, for my wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part or until you kick my ass out."

There was snickering and a few gasps.

Father Martin turned to Maggie, "Maggie, please repeat after me, 'I, Maggie Magdalena Malone, take you, Gregory Scott House, for my husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.'_"_

Maggie looked into House eyes and holding his hand so tight his fingers ached, repeated, "I, Maggie Magdalena Malone, take you, Gregory Scott House, for my husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part or until I finally get tired of your malarkey and kick you out._"_

Father Martin shook his head, "May the Lord in His goodness strengthen your consent and fill you both with His blessings. What God has joined together, let no man put asunder." He continued to bless the rings which lay on a pillow. He held out the pillow to House. "Gregory House, please repeat, _"_With this ring I thee wed, and pledge thee my troth."

House put it partially onto Maggie's finger, _"_With this ring I thee wed, and pledge thee my troth." He then slipped it all the way down.

The priest handed Maggie House's ring, and she repeated, _"_With this ring I thee wed, and pledge thee my troth." Maggie felt the tears spill over.

House shook his head, "Mags. Don't cry. You have a lifetime with me to do that."

She started laughing as the priest began the Nuptial Mass which lasted an additional fifteen minutes. The entire ceremony had been forty-five minutes, causing House to sigh loud enough that everyone heard him in the middle of the liturgy. Maggie couldn't help but smile, he had lasted longer than she thought he could.

After the ceremony, House walked over to the front pew while Maggie talked to family. He came back to Maggie, his arm around an older woman. Following them were the people from the front pew.

"Maggie, I told them not to come, but they told me they wanted to take a chance, just in case we went through with it. These are my parents. Blythe and John House. My Aunt Sarah Nichols and her husband Matt Nichols."

Maggie felt her palms go cold and clammy. She had forgotten about her in-laws coming. She leaned in and hugged Blythe, "Thank you so much for betting on us." She turned and hugged his father too.

John smiled, "We see from his attire that Greg had a hard time making up his mind."

Maggie smiled, "I didn't make it easy for him. I have a real temper."

Blythe's eyebrows went up as she looked at her son, "Then there will never be a dull moment in your house!"

The photographer begged for them to pose for the photos. After it was over, Maggie and Greg left the Church to applause and rice being thrown at them. Meggie stepped forward and threw an old shoe over Maggie's head for good luck. They climbed into the back of the Rolls Royce and were driven downtown to the reception. As was tradition, the wedding party took the longest route to the reception. Maggie held onto House like a life jacket. House kissed the top of her forehead.

"You look so beautiful, Mrs. House. I've never seen anyone so beautiful."

"Thank you honey. What made you show up?"

He threw his head back and laughed, "Could it be that maybe I love you?"

She raised an eyebrow, "Greg?"

"Okay, I came back because someone pointed out how lonely I'd be without you, no matter how crazy you are. Maggie, as cheesy as it sounds, I came back because I love you and can't imagine a life without you and me fighting our way through it, together. I need you on my side."

She hugged him, "Well, I'm glad you did come back. Thank you, honey. I love you too. More than you'll ever know."

"Let's just say, I'm betting on it."

"I was surprised to see your parents come." Maggie asked.

House nodded, "They don't know you're pregnant."

Maggie leaned back to look at him, "You didn't tell them?"

"No, not yet. We can do it later."

When they arrived, Wilson brought House his Tuxedo. Disappearing into the restroom, House emerged fifteen minutes later in a tux.

Maggie smiled, "Damn you look really handsome in that."

He kissed her, "Let's make our entrance."

The doors to the reception opened and the disc jockey announced them, "Drs. House and Malone, husband and wife." Then he played, _Another One Bites the Dust. _Friends and family clapped as House and Maggie made their way to the bridal table.

The reception was no different than most. After the dinner, the audience took their forks and banged their glasses for the toast. Wilson had asked Jack for help with the best man's toast. Knowing that he was speaking to a largely Irish Catholic crowd, Wilson wanted it to be appropriate.

"If Shakespeare had been alive, he couldn't have written Maggie and House's story, no one would have believed it. It's a tale of the kind of love that lasts decades, haunts the lovers and then brings them together to spend the rest of their lives together. We're all aware of Maggie's fierceness, but it was that tenacity and vigor that got House out of a wheelchair and mended him when he was shot. She's the kind of woman that you don't mess with and that's the only kind that can take on House. It's great to see someone giving it back to him, which reminds me of the time that Maggie was so mad at House she put hot sauce on the second layer of their toilet paper. The next day all House did was mumble curses and walk bowlegged." Wilson waited for the laughter to die down, "So, Maggie, I salute you for putting up with him, taking care of him and loving him. Heaven knows he doesn't deserve you. "

House yelled out, "Hey, what about me? Aren't you supposed to say something _nice _about me?"

Jack yelled out, "Yeah, you make good babies."

The audience laughed, fully aware of the story of having to move Bridget out of the O'Leary burial site.

Wilson picked up his glass of mead. "Ladies and gentlemen, will you rise to toast the couple." He waited for the audience to get on their feet.

"May you have walls for the wind, and a roof for the rain, and drinks beside the fire.  
Laughter to cheer you and those you love near you, and all that your heart may desire!"

Maggie stood. It was custom that the groom stand at this point to give the reply, but Maggie was sure that House had no clue what the proper reply was. He'd seen it done at some of the weddings they went to, but that was decades ago. But, as she rose, House grabbed her arm and stood up beside her, holding the glass of mead in the air, he began:

"Friends and relatives so fond and dear,  
Tis our greatest pleasure to have you here.  
When many years this day has passed,  
Our fondest memories will always last.  
So we drink a cup of Irish Mead,  
And ask God's blessing in our hour of need."

The audience responded:

"On this special day, our wish to you,

The goodness of the old, the best of the new.

God bless you both who drink this mead,

May it always fill your every need.

_Sláinte agus saol agat!" (Good health and long life to you!)_

Maggie and House then stepped forward for their first dance to Elvis singing, _Can't Help Falling. _They didn't take their eyes off of each other. House could smell the hair product in her hair. He bent down further and took a whiff of her neck, the perfume and her body odor mixed together in his nose. The familiarity of it made him want to hold her closer. He kissed her neck. She kissed his ear as he bent down.

The next dance was for House and his mother, Maggie and her father-in-law. Maggie was enchanted when she saw the love in House's face for his mother. They were laughing and his mother was caressing his face like Maggie used to caress Bridget's. Maggie could see the little boy in House respond to the touch of his mother and it choked her up.

John was more than pleasant with Maggie. He complimented her dress, spoke highly of his son and thanked Maggie for being patient and putting up with Greg. He admitted that he hadn't always been a good father and that he felt bad about that. Maggie didn't forgive him, but she let him know that most humans aren't perfect and being a parent sets you up for some failures. He asked her how she could sound so wise, so she told him about Bridget. She didn't tell him that Bridget was his granddaughter, just that she had died when she was two.

John expressed genuine sorrow, "I don't know what we would have done if we had loss Greg. I know he wouldn't believe this, but we and I do mean _we_, love him very much."

Maggie was confused. This man, for all the horrible things he had done, was sharing something so personal with her. She looked over at House, who winked at her as his Dad twirled her around the floor.

After the cake cutting, bouquet throwing, garter wrenching ceremonies, House ended up at a table full of guys drinking a bottle of Connemara Cask Strength Irish Whiskey, one of the single malts on the market. Besides Jack, Wilson, Michael, John House, Chase, and several other male members of the Malone clan, there were two guys from WHO, Lee Chin and Nigel Koller.

After all the remarks about Maggie's temper, John House shook his head and pointed towards Maggie, "I don't understand how that beautiful and graceful woman could be anything more than an angel. I don't believe she's as tough as you make her out to be."

House and the Irish howled. Jack told the story of Maggie taking on the gang when she was ten and how the leader threatened to come back ten years later to marry Maggie. The whole table laughed and looked over at Maggie who looked anything but a tough rugrat. House couldn't imagine anything more gracious or beautiful than Maggie in her dress.

Wilson asked, "Did he come back and date Maggie?"

Jack shook his head, "But when Maggie married Tom, he gave her 500 and boxing gloves. He died a year later from a blood clot."

"I can beat that one." Nigel Kohler leaned in and took a drink. "There had been rumors floating in Africa among the CDC and WHO personnel about Maggie, but no one had ever confirmed it. One of the main characters in the story, Joseph, never would deny or confirm it. But one day I was treating a woman's two little boys for pinworm when Joseph, who was a native kid who had lived and worked in the health camps since he was a young boy, came in and gave the woman a hug. After some talk between them he left. I asked her how she knew Joseph. She whispered, 'He and Dr. Malone saved my life.' I remembered that the rumor about Maggie centered around a young girl being raped and brutally beaten and I could see scars on this woman's arms and neck. So I pretended as if I knew what had happened. 'Are you the girl Maggie saved when the gang went through the villages killing and raping women near Sek o tah?' She nodded. I asked casually, 'What happened that day?' I knew the gang had been exceptionally brutal. They'd kill all the men and babies, then raped and killed most of the women. Instead of shooting the women, they'd bash their heads in with rocks, saving their bullets for men.

The woman didn't want to say anything, but I assured her that Maggie was in South America and nothing would happen to her. She finally broke down and said that Maggie gunned down two of the attackers, but the last one was holding the young woman by the throat with a knife in her hut where her mother lay dead, her head bashed in. Maggie put down her assault weapon to lure him away from the girl. He went to get the weapon and Maggie pulled her hand gun from her waist band and got the drop on him." Nigel hesitated unsure of whether he should share Maggie's secret. All the men were waiting.

"Come on, you can't stop there!" Jack needled.

"Well the guy offered to surrender, but Maggie laughed and shot him squarely between the eyes and once in the heart. The woman said that the man was dead before he hit the ground. Maggie, Joseph and the woman buried him before the government arrived, but one of the natives in the village survived and told the authorities what she did. They didn't believe him. They took a look at the short, white Maggie and couldn't believe she could kill three men. They couldn't find the guy who was buried and so they dismissed the rumor, but the soldiers loved telling the story anyway and Maggie became a hero among the villagers."

Jack grinned and nodded, "That's my Mags."

"Well son," John House looked over and met House's eyes, "Seems you've met your match. I'd keep any guns in your house unloaded."

All the guys sat quietly back in their seats and looked at Maggie. Turning from the table of the elder Irish relatives, Maggie saw all their eyes on her. She walked over and they all leaned back in their chairs as if she was about to slap them.

She laughed, "What's going on here? You guys looked at me like I was the devil."

Michael spoke up, "No Maggie, Nigel was just telling us about his time in Africa with you. We've just gained a whole new respect for you."

The guys handed her a shot of whiskey and toasted her. She smiled, and raised the glass but didn't drink it. House grabbed her and put her on his good leg.

Michael asked her, "Alright Mags, you're not drinking 100 year old Irish whiskey. There's only one thing that would stop you. Are you pregnant?"

She looked down at Greg and smiled, "Oops, I did it again."

Michael got up on a chair, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I have great news, my cousin Maggie, the old nag that she is, is with child. Heaven help the spawn of Maggie and Greg! To the bairn!"

Everyone cheered and raised their glass.

Blythe House walked over to her son and Maggie, "Is it true? You two are having a baby?"

House nodded and hugged Maggie as he did, "She's beautiful pregnant, isn't she?"

Blythe laughed, "Greg House, you're drunk."

"No Mom, I'm _very_ drunk."

"The answer is yes, Maggie's very beautiful." Blythe put a hand on Maggie's shoulder. "Maggie, maybe we could talk when all this settles down. I'd love to hear about the baby plans."

Maggie giggled, "Or course."

House buried his face in Maggie's chest, "I think it's time for us to leave."

Jack pulled House's head back from Maggie's chest, "Maggie, once he starts pawing you, he can't stop. Time for you two to get a room. We'll make sure the gifts get back to where they belong."

House stood up, weaving, "Wait! I forgot, I wanted to play my wife something." He took his cane and crossed the room to the Grand Piano. Having some trouble negotiating the bench, he finally came to rest and looked up at the room full of people. He smiled and waved comically, "Hi Aunt Sarah, thanks for coming."

She gave him a little salute back.

"My wife, as most of you know, is a real pain in the ass. She's the kind that drives you around the bend at the speed of light—"He put his hand to his chest, "I on the other hand have always been charming, adorable, handsome and well liked." House could see Cuddy and Wilson rolling their eyes. "But I got Maggie pregnant and the honest thing to do was to marry her, so I did the only honest thing in my life. We're about to leave so that we can do the horizontal mambo, but before we do, I want to dedicate one song to my wife."

_Heart and soul, I fell in love with you  
Heart and soul, the way a fool would do,  
madly  
Because you held me tight  
And stole a kiss in the night_

_Oh! but your lips were thrilling, much too thrilling  
Never before were mine so strangely willing_

But now I see, what one embrace can do  
Look at me, it's got me loving you  
madly  
That little kiss you stole  
Held all my heart and soul

Several couples got up and danced. House yelled out, "Come on folks, help me out." Everyone started singing with House to Maggie,

_Heart and soul, I fell in love with you  
Heart and soul, the way a fool would do,  
madly  
Because you held me tight  
And stole a kiss in the night_

_Oh! but your lips were thrilling, much too thrilling  
Never before were mine so strangely willing_

But now I see, what one embrace can do  
Look at me, it's got me loving you  
madly  
That little kiss you stole  
Held all my heart and soul

Maggie leaned down and kissed House, "Come on honey, let's go start the rest of our lives."


	49. Chapter 26 Part I I'll Be Seeing You

**Chapter 26- Part I**

**I'll Be Seeing You**

"Honey, I'm just going to get out of my dress, hang it up and I'll be back in. Are you going to be okay?"

Maggie winced as she watched him trying to take his clothes off, weaving in large circles next to the bed. She wasn't sure if he could tell where the bed was. He kept putting a hand out as if he was trying to find the bed and take his clothes off at the same time.

She went back to the bed, pushing her dress behind her and grabbed his shoulders, "You know what honey? Maybe you should just sit on the bed and wait for me to come back and I'll help you take off your clothes." She calmly pulled him to the bed and pushed him to sit. He sat down and tilted his head to the side.

Voice slurred he asked, "Which one?"

"Which one what, honey?"

"Which one of you did I marry? I thought it was the one on the right, but now there's two more of you. But, if you're all up for it, we can have a foursome."

Maggie started snickering, "I think that would be fine honey, just let me get my dress off."

"Are you all getting naked?" he asked, hiccupping.

"We're all getting undressed and will be back soon."

She spent fifteen minutes in the hotel bathroom undoing the dress and hanging it properly, brushing her teeth, removing the makeup, getting out of the undergarments. Not surprisingly, House was passed out on the bed. Chuckling the whole time, she pulled his shoes and socks off, then undid his belt, zipper and pulled the tuxedo trousers off. She wondered where he had lost his bow-tie because it was nowhere to be found. The button covers were next then the cufflinks. It was strange seeing the gold band on his finger. It hit her, this very drunk man was her husband and she was happier than she had ever been.

She managed to roll him around so that she could get the arms out of the tuxedo shirt. Starting to snore, he made little snorting noises every time she rolled him onto his back. Once down to his shorts, Maggie rolled him to the other side of the bed, then pulled back the covers and rolled him back to his side, pulling the covers over him. Climbing into the other side, Maggie turned on her side and watched House sleep, smiling. She slid her hand across his jaw to his chin and down his neck over his nipple, his ribs and down to his abdomen. The elastic of the boxers was like a national border, keeping guard from foreign invaders. She thought about asking permission first before crossing it. But the border guard was fast asleep.

Maggie played with the edge of the elastic, debating whether to play when the owner of the toys it housed was so out of it. She smiled and pushed on, her fingers slowly headed to the hair just below the navel, following it down to the soft penis that started to respond to her touch. She looked up and saw a smile on his face.

"Which one of you do I get to fuck?" He asked, opening one eye.

"The pretty one."

He giggled, "You're all beautiful, how do I choose?"

"I'll show you." She dipped down and took him in her mouth.

House drew in a sharp breath, opening his other eye, "Oh, where did the others go?"

"Wouldn't you like to know." She continued to lick the deep blue vein that was becoming more apparent by the seconds. Happy to see that he was responding, she took one of his balls in her mouth and sucked, then licked back to the base of his penis and up the shaft. The head of the erection danced as he became more and more aroused. Grasping him in her hand, she wrapped her manicured fingers around the base and began to pump as she continued to suck.

Glancing up, she could see him watching. He smiled at her, "That feels great."

"I can tell, you're really hard."

"Maggie?"

"Greg?"

"Breasts, please."

She snorted and took off her gown, jiggling her breasts for him. A grin crept across his mouth. Reaching out, he grabbed her left breast. "If you have a girl, she better not get these breasts. It will be hell trying to keep the boys away as it is."

"It's your wedding night, how would you like your sex?"

He laughed, "I've been married several months."

She wagged a finger at him, "Not in the eyes of the Church. It's official now, so name your poison."

"Turn over and put a pillow under your pelvis."

Maggie grabbed a pillow and put it under her pelvic area, lifting her butt up slightly. House climbed down the bed and put his hands on her thighs. Maggie opened her legs automatically.

"No, I want you to close them, but not all the way."

Maggie closed her legs almost completely, wondering what he was going to do. She could feel his hand as it slid up and down between her smooth thighs.

"Ah, Christ Maggie, you're so soft and smooth, it's really sexy. You're back curves perfectly up to your butt. Everything is so graceful on you." He climbed on top of her, his nude, warm body covering every inch of her, his long legs extending a foot below hers. She could smell him getting excited, a little sweat mixing in with his musk. His breath blew softly on her ear as he positioned himself.

His hard erection pushed between her thighs. Guided by his fingers, he opened the slit and penetrated her. She could feel the hair of his chest on her back as he pushed up inside of her and then slowly pulled out. In and out, he pushed and pulled, thrusting with short, but steady strokes. The feel of him inside hitting just the right spot combined with the friction on her clitoris from her closed legs and the pillow rubbing against the outside of clitoris as he penetrated, was enough to start sending little pre-orgasmic tingles. He was heavy, pinning her to the bed. She couldn't move him even if she tried. Her only choice was to lay there and enjoy it. It wasn't hard, she was really horny, she'd been thinking about screwing him from the minute he appeared in his tuxedo.

"Greg…Greg….I'm coming." She felt the warm juices lubricating them, making it easier for him to pick up speed. House picked up the rhythm, excited by her announcement.

"Maggie, I'm it's coming…Christ."

The sound of his heavy breathing, the grunting in her ear, along with the quicker pace was bringing her to her climax rapidly. She felt her thighs clench along with her abdomen and the contractions start in her vagina. Everything was tingling, the congestion was dissipating with each orgasmic contraction around his shaft.

House gasped a little as he felt her orgasm clamp down on him. There was no stopping now, the pressure in his balls began to release as he started the short, powerful thrusts that released his semen. He grunted over and over in her ear until they both were silent.

He was now dead weight on her back, breathing hard and fast. She could feel the fast pace of his heart, hear the blood rushing in her ears. She waited for him to move, but he didn't.

"Honey, you're heavy, get off me."

Instead of a verbal response, she could hear gentle snoring. Laughing, she bucked and pushed up, finally dislodging him. House rolled to the side, not missing a beat of sleep as he did. Maggie looked at him and smiled, "I guess cuddling is out of the question?"

House snorted and rolled on his side, still asleep. Maggie reached over and kissed his ear, whispering, "I've waited eighteen years for this Greg. Eighteen years to finally call you mine. I love you honey, I've always loved you, always will. You are the great love of my life. Thank you for giving me this, for bending your rules because you love me. Goodnight." She kissed him again and then lay down, falling into a comfortable sleep.**  
**

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I think I have everything." I mumbled. I dug into my Coach bag scouring it for my paperless ticket which was an email _on a piece of paper_ (oh the irony of it) to Geneva. I looked up into the frustrated face of my husband. "I'm sorry honey, I know I'm unorganized. I don't know what happened. One minute we're having non-stop sex, the next minute I'm supposed to be at the airport. It just crept up on me."

I knew he wanted to yell at me, tell me this would all be moot if I'd just agree to stay in Princeton, but he bit his tongue, making me feel guilty for leaving him. As long as he moaned about Geneva or me moving, I could maintain that he was a sexist pig and I was justified in putting my career on the same plain as his. But he hadn't said a word since the wedding. It was as if he turned off the spout, run out of steam. I thought I had won, but I didn't. The lack of organization and mad dash to the airport screamed out to me,_ you idiot, you don't want to leave him!_

I kept talking as I pulled the paper from my purse, "Okay, so, I'll come back over for Christmas. WHO shuts down the last two weeks in December, so I'll book my trip back for then. You promise to go up to Philly and spend Thanksgiving with my brother, right?

He narrowed his eyes and glared, "I said I'd think about it."

We were standing in line to check in my luggage with only an hour to go before it left. I was praying that I'd get through security in time. I scooted my luggage along as I tried to talk to him. He stood, leaning on his cane, giving me his bored-to-death look.

"Honey, come on. You can't be alone for Thanksgiving."

He bugged his eyes out, "What do you mean? I've been alone for Thanksgiving the last six years."

"Well, you have family now…locally. You need to get to know your nephew and niece." I could tell my words were falling on deaf ears. He would send me an email telling me he had a patient and couldn't go or he'd say he overslept, was sick, lost a tooth, got lost in thought. Something. I handed my luggage to the clerk.

"This bag is over by 10 pounds." She weighed the other. "This one is under by five." The clerk pressed some keys and then hooked the tag around the handles. "I'm going to let you slide this time."

"Thanks." I hated British Air, they could be such sticklers.

We walked in the direction of the security line, meaning it was time for me to leave him. I blew the air out of my cheeks, reluctant to walk towards the line and take off my shoes. Greg pinched my butt, "What was that for?"

"To get you to move. You better get in that line, your airplane is boarding."

I wanted to yell, _"No! You can't make me." _But Greg would have laughed his ass off at the reluctant feminist. "Okay, I love you honey."

He gave me one of those sweet, boyish smiles and rubbed my tummy, "I love you too."

We hugged and I started to cry, "I miss you already."

He shook his head in disbelief, "You're not even out of my sight. Now get. Move that big ass along."

"Big ass?"

He started snickering, "Honey have you looked in a three way mirror lately? You should see it when we do it doggie style. Whew! It sure spread quickly."

"That's not funny." I pouted and walked away. I refused to look at him for the longest time, sure he had already left.

But then I heard his voice standing on the side of the security line, shaking his butt at all of us,

"_I like big butts and I cannot lie  
You other brothers can't deny  
That when a girl walks in with an itty bitty waist  
And a round thing in your face  
You get sprung, wanna pull out your tough  
'Cause you notice that butt was stuffed  
Deep in the jeans she's wearing  
I'm hooked and I can't stop staring_

Of course he was singing and wagging his butt around as he perched on his cane. Some people started clapping to the beat. Others stared at me as if I must know how to shut him up. I didn't dare turn away from him or people would stare at my butt. I just looked up and down and all around, trying to ignore him, but he just kept singing. I didn't know the guy knew all the lyrics.

_  
"Oh baby, I wanna get with you  
And take your picture  
My homeboys tried to warn me  
But that butt you got makes me so horny  
Ooh, Rump-o'-smooth-skin  
You say you wanna get in my Benz?  
Well, use me, use me  
'Cause you ain't that average groupie  
I've seen them dancin'  
To hell with romancin'  
She's sweat, wet,  
Got it goin' like a turbo 'Vette  
I'm tired of magazines  
Sayin' flat butts are the thing  
Take the average black man and ask him that  
She gotta pack much back  
So, fellas! (Yeah!) Fellas! (Yeah!)  
Has your girlfriend got the butt? (Hell yeah!)  
Tell 'em to shake it! (Shake it!) Shake it! (Shake it!)"_

_  
_He started walking out the door still singing and swishing his butt around:

_Shake that healthy butt!  
Baby got back!"_

All the people twenty-five or younger started clapping as he disappeared out the door. I started laughing. The young, black security woman who pushed my bucket through the metal detector asked, "Is that guy your husband?"

"Yes, I'm afraid he is my husband."

"Man, girl! You otta be proud, he's got it goin' on! My guy's got two legs and he doesn't move like that. He must be happenin' in bed."

I nodded, "I'm pregnant…hence, Baby Got Back."

The other security guards laughed at my confession, while the black girl started singing the song to herself. I made my way to the boarding area just in time for them to announce last call for boarding. It hit me that in a few hours, I'd be in Switzerland, away from my family…_and it had been my choice_. I felt so alone.


	50. Chapter 26 Part II

**Chapter 26 Part II**

**I'll Be Seeing You**

"Maggie, I actually have work to do. I can't be talking to you on the phone about what you're having for dinner. Honey, I enjoy hearing your voice, but I only have time to hear it once a day at work and then as often as you like when I get home. We can't keep up all these calls. You're spending our kid's college fund on phone calls."

"The calls are free to me." I said in the most annoyed tone I could give. "I thought you'd like hearing from me." (Pregnancy hormones kicking in) Crying into the receiver, "I thought you'd like hearing about my day. I guess I just don't matter to you. I should have known you'd forget all about me."Silence. "Aren't you going to say anything?" (tears, sniffling and lots of breath catching.)

He took a deep breath, "Oh! You're done with your pity party? Look, we spent forty minutes yesterday going over how often you pee and sleep. This morning you called and told me that you had heartburn. This afternoon you call and tell me you can't decide on what to have for dinner, that I should decide for you. Mags, I have a dying patient who won't be eating dinner tonight if I don't get back to him so, get a grip and scrounge up something to eat."

There was a pause. I could hear his mind laughing at me. _She's lonely. Lonelier than I am! Now she's paying for all that bravado about staying in Europe._ I couldn't tell him how much I missed him or how I wish I was home. He'd cram it down my throat.

"Fuck you Greg House. Next time, you carry the baby nine months."

"Next time we'll use birth control."

"_Fuck you!"_ I flipped my cell phone closed, which didn't add the same drama as being able to slam the receiver down. I went off to scrounge up a dinner that wouldn't cause heartburn and started talking on IM with Theresa, moaning about what a jerk Greg had been. She wasn't as sympathetic as I thought she'd be. She insinuated that calling five times a day, three while he was at work, was a little excessive. I typed as fast as I could, _But it's hard to call him when he gets home at night because it's much later here and I fall asleep! I'm exhausted when I get home._

Her response boiled down to "tough, suck it up."

The next morning was Saturday and I decided that I needed to go do some Christmas shopping to keep my mind from fixating on Greg House. I bundled up and took the bus downtown Geneva. It had snowed the night before, causing patches of ice on the sidewalks. I found a gorgeous sweater for Greg and was rather pleased with myself when I exited the store. My boot went one way and my butt when the other. I fell with a resounding thud to my back and head.

Some of the Swiss huddled around me. I was asked in Italian if I was okay, I responded that my back and head hurt. Paramedics were called and I was transported to the hospital. The examination indicated a concussion and a sprained back. They kept me Saturday night for observation, but let me go in the morning, although I couldn't walk. The pain in my back was horrible and the most they could give me was Naproxen, although I was told to discontinue use of it in my third trimester. I called Tisha St. John, the wife of one of the WHO doctors and my closest friend in Geneva, but she had already left for England for the holidays. I knew Conor was still in town, but I couldn't ask him to come down and help me home. So I called a cab and, with the help of a nurse, got myself into it. He delivered me to the bottom of my steps, I paid him a generous tip for helping me out of the car. I stood as the snow pelted down, looking at the twelve steps leading up to my townhouse and I started to cry. The pain in my back was so bad, I didn't think I could climb the steps.

I held onto the rail and tried to pull myself up, but after the first step, I realized I was in real trouble and it was getting colder. I had Greg's sweater in the bag and thought seriously about putting it on under my jacket, just in case I didn't make it inside. I was starting to panic until I realized I had been in worse positions. I climbed each step on my knees, finding I could tolerate the pain that way. I'd take a step and stop, throw the bag with the sweater up the step and then crawl again. When I finally got to the top of the steps, I pulled out the key from my purse and grabbed the handle, pulling myself to my feet. I started crying from the pain, it seared up my back to the base of my shoulder blade.

I got inside just as the sun was setting and collapsed on the floor in the living room. My back cramped and I couldn't move. I grabbed my cell phone out of my purse to call Conor, but the battery was drained. I felt like the world was crashing in around me. I lay on the floor, unable to move one way or another. I peed in my pants and all over the area rug. I lay there for twenty-four hours. No one called, no one came to my door, no one checked in on me despite the fact that I had a WHO meeting that I missed on Monday, no one bothered to look for me. My head started throbbing when the Naprosyn wore off. I knew that I had to get help. I tried to slide on my back towards the phone, which was on the counter in the kitchen. I got half way there when I passed out from the pain.

Around six o'clock on Monday evening, the phone rang. The answer machine picked up and I heard Greg's voice, pissed, "Okay Maggie, I didn't mean for you to not call at all. For God's sake, stop playing games and pick up." There was silence and then frustrated he said, "Fine, when you come to your senses, call me. I'm not playing this game with you. If you want to call me, you can try me at home in the morning before I go into work, but I _have a patient_ and I won't be able to talk to you at work. Bye."

I peed my pants again. Reaching into my bag, I pulled out the bottle of water that I had been carrying and drank the rest of it. I found a half eaten power bar that I kept to stave off hunger when I couldn't eat lunch on time. I ate the rest of it and then yelled at the top of my lungs for help. But I was an end unit and my neighbor had already left for France to join his family for Christmas. I knew I was fucked.

I stank. I tried to get up again, but the best I could do was scoot my body another ten feet towards the kitchen before the pain became unbearable. I was worried about the baby. When I reached down between my legs with a Kleenex from my purse to wipe It came up pink. My head started spinning I was so freaked out.

The phone rang the next morning at ten, "Okay Mags, pick up. Maggie, pick up damn it! I just got a call from some fucking secretary asking _me_ if you were going to participate in this afternoon's conference call with Bejing. They say you haven't been in the last two days, so call me when you get this. I'm worried Maggie." He went silent again, "You can call me at work." There was another long pause. His voice went soft, "Maggie, please pick up. Honey, I'm worried. I'm sorry I yelled at you. You can call me anytime. Mags? _Mags!"_ He hung up.

Two hours later there was a pounding on my front door. I screamed and the cavalry was there to rescue me. Greg had called WHO and demanded that someone check on me. Two of my office mates found me and called for the paramedics.

Tessa, bending over me, kept pouring water down my throat, "Maggie, we thought you had decided to go home to the States early. We're so sorry."

I was back in the hospital and ten hours later, Greg was standing over me staring down half angry, half worried. He was still in his coat and scarf, wet marks on it from the snowfall. I opened my eyes and tried to smile at him as he put his hand on his forehead and dragged it through his hair.

"Hi, honey."

He kept shaking his head. "Jesus Christ Maggie, do you know what I've gone through the last twenty-four hours?"

I was about to point out that he hadn't spend the last 48 hours on the floor in pain and urine. But, he looked mad with worry and I didn't want to stir the pot. He was there and I was being fed something intravenously that was making life much more tolerable along with saline to rehydrate me.

"They gave you an MRI while you were out and you have an L5 fracture and a torn ligament, which accounts for your pain. You'll be in a back brace for twelve weeks whenever you sit or stand for long periods."

"_What? Twelve weeks? While I'm pregnant?"_

"Well, we could have them remove that alien inside of you and then it would be twelve weeks without being pregnant."

"That alien probably looks like you, so be kind. I'm 18 weeks now. I'll be thirty weeks when I get it off. Ah crap, pregnancy is no fun as it is." I looked up at the ceiling and tried not to cry.

Greg took his coat off, "Maggie, I want to stay, but I can't, we're getting another patient tomorrow and I have to get back…he's a congressman. They almost refused to let me board the plane. I had to promise to return tomorrow. I'm leaving at 3:00 pm. I have to find someone to take care of you. The hospital is rounding up some home companions to help with dressing, cleaning, you know. "

I was feeling like a little girl all alone in the world. I wanted Greg to stay …no, I wanted to go home. "Greg, I want to go home." The tears were flooding from my eyes to the pillow. I put my arm over my eyes, "I want to go home. I want to spend Christmas with you."

He pulled my arm off of my eyes so he could see me, "I wish you had said this a month ago. Honey, you can't leave now. You need to be stabilized for a good month before they'll let you fly home." He took his thumb and wiped the tears from my left eye. "Damn it, Maggie. This is …FUBAR."

"Huh?"

"Military for Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition."

I nodded. I forced myself to stop crying and suck it up.

They're fitting you with a brace and giving you Vicodin. That's rather ironic. I'm trying to wean myself off of it and they're pumping you full of it."

I was allowed to go home the next morning, but this time, Greg hired an ambulance and had them carry me on a gurney up the steps and into my bedroom. He looked around before finally coming back to see how I was.

"Why don't you have a stereo?"

"Conor…it was his. I hadn't bought another one yet. Why?"

"I need to charge my Ipod for the trip home."

"Sorry."

There was a knock on the door and Greg went out to answer it. I heard him speaking French fluently to a woman. They came back to see me.

"This is Lise. She's going to take care of you."

I panicked, "Greg, I don't speak French. I speak Spanish, Italian and Latin."

He shrugged his shoulders, "Lise, can you speak Italian."

She smiled, "No sir, but I do speak some English."

"Honey, I've got to get going. It's one o'clock and my plane leaves at 3:15 pm."

_Suck it up, suck it up, suck it up._ I started crying.

"Maggie stop your bawling, this is what you get for insisting on staying in Europe."

I sounded like a Hoover vacuum, "Or it's what I get because you wouldn't come over with me." I stuck out my lower lip.

"Damn you! I'm going. Now, your cell phone is plugged in and the land line is on your nightstand. You can call me anytime, _anytime_. Now…behave. I'll call when I get home." He started out the bedroom door without saying he loved me.

I said nothing. I wasn't going to goad him into saying it by saying it first. If he loved me, he'd say it. But then again, it was Greg. I wanted to roll over, but I was supposed to stay flat, so I did. I waited while I heard Lise and Greg speak in French and then the door closed. He broke my heart.

I closed my eyes. _Suck it up, suck it up, suck it up._ I opened them and he was bending over about six inches from my face.

He wrinkled his brow, "What were you doing? You kept mouthing something."

"I thought you left?"

"Not just yet, Lise had to go to her car to get something. Besides, you didn't think I'd leave without telling my ailing, pregnant wife that I love her?" He gave me a devilish grin, knowing he had pulled one over on me.

I put an arm up and pulled him down, feeling the tufts of his hair between my fingers. He gave me a very sweet kiss, then pulled back when he heard the front door close.

"I really have to go. Now, once again, behave. I love you despite the fact you're a massive disappointment and a huge nuisance."

"Go piss up a rope." I hissed.

He snickered, "Is that the thanks I get for dropping everything and flying over here? Which, by the way, the cost of the plane ticket was the difference between a good university and community college for our spawn."

"Thank you for coming. Screw you for going."

He laughed all the way out the front door. I already missed that laugh.


	51. Chapter 26 Part III I'll Be Seeing You

**Maggie's Story**

**Chapter 26 Part IV**

I spent two days on my back and went nuts. I tanked myself up on Vicodin, put on my back brace and made Lise go with me in a cab to work. By the time we got there, my back was on fire. I knocked back another Vicodin and had to lie down on the ground the entire time I was in the office. We held the meeting, but I did it on my back. I was told by Franz Heidzig, the head of our human resource group, to take a month off and get well.

I went home to my townhouse in Geneva and stayed on my back most of the time, except for the occasional walk around the house to stretch my legs. I didn't call Greg. What did I have to share? "Gee honey, I laid on my back for two hours, got up and went through the living, laid on my back another two hours , got up and went to the bathroom and then the highlight of my day was trying to eat while laying down and spilling the meal all over my chest. Actually, that might have interested him, the idea of licking it off my chest would have sprung to mind…but, I still didn't think it was enough to take him away from his life.

He called me on Friday. Without even a hello he groaned, "I told you that you could call anytime."

I was lying on my back with the cell phone to my ear, "And what was I supposed to say? I had a really good day, I peed in the toilet instead of on myself?"

"Wow did you hear that?" he said.

I tried to listen, "What? I don't hear anything?"

"You didn't hear that huge wave of self-pity that emanated from your lips?"

"I'm ending this conversation now." I hung up.

He didn't call me back and he knew that would piss me off even more.

On Christmas Eve, I told Lise to go home early and not come back until the day after Christmas, that I was going to be spending time with some friends who were coming later that morning. She believed me. I didn't want her pity or her wishing she was with her children on Christmas. All I could think of was that I would have been home enjoying Christmas with my husband, brother and family, if I hadn't slipped. I convinced myself that this Christmas didn't matter, I would just muddle through it. Next Christmas would be different, the baby would be seven months old and we'd have fun dressing our baby up in Christmas clothes, getting a Christmas portrait.

The house was quiet. I had my IPOD, having purchased a new portable IPOD stereo on Amazon, but was sick of the same 600 tunes. Lise had propped the television up high so I had an easier time staying flat and watching it. I made an excruciatingly slow trip to the kitchen and grabbed water, fruit, cereal, cheese and crackers to sustain me until Lise returned in two days. I put everything in reach on the bed and went back to reading my book. I drifted off to sleep watching television.

It was dark when I felt someone moving softly in my room. I thought it was Lise until I remembered it was Christmas Eve and she had gone. I tried to remember if I had left the door unlocked when I had gone out to pick up the paper on the doorstep. I probably did, because usually an unlocked door wasn't a problem since crime in Geneva was exceptionally low. But, I was pretty helpless, and if someone did try to take advantage of me, I would be at their mercy. I could just make out the figure. It was a man standing by me rummaging through my nightstand drawer. I held my breath, praying he would leave me alone, but he turned towards me anyway. I pretended to be asleep, hoping he'd take what he wanted and leave. I didn't hear anything so I opened my eyes and screamed like a banshee, his face was in mine.

"_Jesus Christ Maggie! What the hell is wrong with you?"_

"Greg?" My breath was shallow and my heart was beating so hard I thought I'd faint, "What do you mean? You sneak in here and act like a burglar! I was scared to death."

"I was just looking for your scissors."

"Why?"

"I've got a thread come loose from my coat and if I pull it, the entire lining might come out."

I grabbed my abdomen, "Oh, man, I hope the baby is okay; my heart is racing like a horse."

"Where's Lise?" He turned on the light.

My eyes squinted, trying to adjust to the lamplight, "It's Christmas. I sent her home."

"What the?" He looked at the food nest on the bed, "Were you planning on holing up here for the winter? I told Lise I'd be back for Christmas; she should have waited until I got here."

"I was pretty insistent." I finally realized that my husband was standing above me. My insides went all creamy and gooey, "You came over for me? For Christmas?"

He refused to admit any sentimental gesture, "Someone had to look after you while Lise was gone." He looked tired and worn down. "Can I remove the canteen from the bed so that I can crawl in? I'm exhausted."

"Do you want some help?"

"You just stay flat." He laughed, "I finally get you flat on your back and I can't have sex with you."

"Who says?"

He raised his eyebrows and shook his head, "That's wishful thinking dear."

"Oh God, you don't know how bored I am. Anything to occupy my mind, including how to give you head in this position, would be worth the price of your plane ticket."

"Yeah, well, our kid's no longer going to college after the price of this ticket. I've signed him up for a paper route; he or she starts the day after they're born." He started to clear the bed. After the food was back in the kitchen, he undressed. I watched him like a voyeur.

He started chuckling, "I know how a stripper feels; you're undressing me with your eyes."

"Excuse me? I don't have to undress you with my eyes, you're doing it all on your own. I'm just appreciating the body of my really old husband."

"Old? Who's down with the bad back?" He crawled into bed.

"Don't stay over there, I need to smell you."

Greg cocked his head and furred his brow, puzzled by my demand, "Smell me?"

"One of my favorite things to do."

Then he nodded his head, "Yes, I seem to remember the woman who got off on dirty t-shirts."

"Oh yeah, that would be me. Now let me smell you."

I felt the hairy, warm arm crawl over my ribs as the fingers wrapped around my arm on the other side. He scooted over and put his face on my pillow. He looked amused.

"Head, bend your head down so I can smell your hair."

He gave me the "ewww" look, but bent his head down. I took a whiff and smiled. He was using his Herrera shampoo. He also smelled musky from the trip. Between his arm around me and the familiar smells, I started to relax, let all the pain and sadness float up out of me.

"Mags?"

"Yes?"

"I'm going to touch you. If it hurts let me know."

I tensed up, worried that he might do something that would trigger a spasm. I waited as he brought his hand down over my protruding belly. I was wearing a big t-shirt and panties. He ran his long fingers over my belly, tickling from the gentle brushing of his fingertips around the bottom of the bulge. I wasn't as big as Sandy, one of the secretaries at WHO, and she was only 17 weeks pregnant. But, I was about as big as I was with Bridget. I hadn't felt the baby move yet.

He stopped moving his hand, placing the palm flat over my round abdomen, as if he was keeping the baby warm with his hand as a blanket. He looked in my eyes and I swear he looked like he might cry. I was going to say something, but he leaned down and kissed the bulge and then sat up. "I need some water." He disappeared out the bedroom door, leaving me grinning.

He was starting to get attached to the idea of being a father. I would never have guessed that inside Greg House was a Daddy. If I said something, he'd spend the next umpteen days trying to deny it so I decided to let it be. Let him come to terms with fatherhood at his own speed.

He crawled back into bed, "I have to admit I asked your doctor about sex. He was non-committal. Said it was up to you. If I put a pillow under your shoulders to keep your back flexed and we do it missionary style, it might work. But, this position won't work for long if you keep pumping up that balloon in your uterus."

"I don't know. I really, really, want sex, but I'm worried about the pain from my back."

He shook his head, "It's okay, we don't have to." We were silent. "I'm going to sleep, just wake me if you need something."

A few minutes later he was snoring gently in my ear. I started breathing in rhythm with his breath. He had placed his hand back on my belly. I put mine over his hand and thought of the wonderful moves at the end of those fingertips. My breasts started to tingle. I kept remembering the last time we made love. I couldn't take it. I shoved his hand down between my legs, pressing his finger between my slit to let him know how wet I was.

I heard a snickering in my ear, "Were you trying to wake me or just use my hand as a sex toy?"

"Well, if you didn't wake up soon, at least I wouldn't need batteries."

"Are you sure?"

"Greg, you've got your finger in a pool of wet, warm, fuck-me juices. What do you think?"

He lifted up and grabbed his pillow. I took a Vicodin, rolled over and back onto the pillow. It was cool under my back and allowed me to remain fairly flat when I opened my legs as Greg pulled my panties off. He kept breaking out into little laughs as he climbed between my legs and grabbed his erection.

"I'll try to be fast." Then he laughed again, "I never thought I'd say that to a woman."

"Well, I don't know if we need fast as we need gentle."

"Ahoy matey, permission to come aboard?"

"Permission granted."

His fingers pushed apart my labia as he stabbed up, the head of his penis, wet and warm, striking my clitoris first. He grabbed his erection and rubbed my clit with it. I still had my t-shirt on, wondering if he wanted me to push it up so he could see my breasts. I thought it was the least I could do for him. I pulled it up, put it was being held down in back by my butt and the weight of Greg between my legs. The only thing exposed were the bottom third of my breasts.

"I can't get it up." I explained, when I stopped pulling the t-shirt over the breasts.

He giggled again, "I'm going fast, and you can't get it up. We make a pair. It's okay, what little is revealed is hot…makes it seem even more forbidden." He bent down and sucked my nipple through the t-shirt. I felt his erection stiffen as he slowly pushed inside of me about an inch and then pulled out. Greg reached down with his hand, grabbed under my shirt and filled his hand with as much of my breast as he could.

Pushing in again just a little further, he stayed there, teasing me. I couldn't rise up to meet him or my back would spasm, so I had to wait for him to stop torturing me. He played with me over and over, thrusting deeper each time.

"Damn it Greg, if you don't start screwing me, I'm going to twist your balls off."

He smiled and pushed up into me as far as he could from the angle he was at. I closed my eyes, letting my vagina feel the satisfaction of gripping him. I clamped my muscles and heard a little gasp escape from his lips. In reaction to my contraction, he pulled out and pushed back in, enjoying the friction from the tightening of my grip. It was hard going, I clamped down as hard as I could and he worked hard to pump the narrowed canal. He started breathing harder, in short breaths. Finally, he closed his eyes and his mouth opened in a silent scream. I felt him pause at the top of his thrust, pull slightly out and thrust again, pausing once more. He did this several times before he let out a breath and fell over to my side.

Without hesitating, he reached between my legs and stuck his fingers deep into me and then pulled some of the semen out to use as lubricant on my clitoris. I started cramping all of my muscles, hoping that my back wouldn't seize up as my vagina and uterus began their dance, pushing waves of electrical impulses and contractions through my groin and into my breasts. I cried out his name and he pumped harder, until I couldn't take anymore. I pushed his hand away.

"Are you okay?"

I took a quick inventory of my body and realized I was no worse than when we started. I turned my head and gave him a grin, "Oh yeah, that was just what the doctor ordered. Can you kiss me now?"

He turned on his side, lifted up and kissed me. It was both passionate and loving.

When he was done I asked him, "Did you come over for the sex?"

He cackled, "With what I paid, I could have had three nights with a foursome—" He sat up to go to the bathroom, "And you wouldn't have even known it."

I slowly raised my body to follow him and get cleaned up. He was peeing when I walked mechanically into the bathroom.

"Where's your brace?"

"I only wear it when I'm going to be up for more than five minutes. I just need to clean up a little."

He finished, washed his hands and then grabbed a washcloth, handing it to me.

"Can you help me pull the t-shirt over my head?"

He pulled it up and to the front so that I didn't have to lift my arms too high. Throwing it in the hamper, he turned and stopped short. I was a naked woman with his baby inside. I think the noticeable bulge made more of an impression standing up. He cocked his head to look at me from the side.

"I thought you'd be bigger, we're at the half way mark, aren't we?"

"Yeah, but I wasn't that big with Bridget."

House shrugged, "But she was a girl."

I looked at him funny, "Yeah, she was a girl. Am I missing something?"

"I thought boys might weigh more, be bigger at birth."

"Greg? What do you know that I don't know?"

He wrapped his body gently around me, careful of my back. "You were out when they did an ultrasound to make sure the baby wasn't in distress, before they gave you the saline and Vicodin." He bent down to look in my eyes, see my reaction. "Congratulations Mrs. House, it's a boy!"

"I didn't want to know!"

"Oh, come on, yes you did."

I shook my head, "No, I didn't. I didn't know when Bridget was born."

"Maggie, come on…be happy, you're going to have another penis to look after."

I didn't want to, but I laughed. He kissed my nose and pulled on my hand to take me to the sink to clean up. It didn't take long and we were back in bed. He knew I'd want to cuddle (and couldn't) so he joined me on my side of the bed, turned over onto his stomach and draped his arm across me. He was nice and toasty. Before long, I opened my eyes and I could see daylight; it was Christmas.

I pushed his arm to wake him, "Greg, Greg! Merry Christmas!"

"What time is it?" He lifted his head and looked at the alarm clock. "Mags, it's 7:30, go back to sleep."

"You go back to sleep, I need a shower." I slowly pulled myself out of the bed, grabbing panties out of the dresser. I went into the shower and quickly took a hot one, put my back brace on and got dressed. I went out to the living room and looked around. You wouldn't know it was Christmas by looking around my townhouse. There were no decorations or presents, although the bag with Greg's sweater was still lying over on the counter. I felt better, causing me to wonder if some of my pain had been psychological from not having Greg around. I put on some coffee and made some toast. A groan came from the bedroom and I could hear movement in the bathroom. Before long, a sleepy Greg was standing at the counter demanding a cup of coffee.

"Okay, it's 8:00 am. Why are we up when we could be sleeping?"

"I didn't ask you to get up. I just felt like a shower and some coffee. I feel good today; the pain is just a dull throb."

Greg walked through to the living room and looked out the window, "Man, it's quiet and white out there." He turned around, "Do you have your brace on?"

"Yep." I pulled my top up in back to show him. He walked back and sat at the counter. I handed him his coffee. "I have a Christmas gift for you. I had just purchased it before I fell."

Greg took the bag, but before he opened it, he smiled. Pulling the sweater out, I realized it had the tags on it. It was a Piacenza Cashmere sweater. I bought it on sale for about 200 and was pleased with my deal. I had eyed it before when it was 450. He pulled it out and held it up to his chest. The blue in the sweater emphasized the blue in his eyes. It looked gorgeous.

"I know, you don't have to say it. My eyes look bluer when I put it next to my face. I get that all the time when I wear blue…which is why I wear so much blue." He started to look at the tags and winced, "My God, 450? For a sweater?"

"Cashmere, Italian sweater. And I got it on sale."

He leaned over and kissed me. "Because you're pregnant, hormonal and slightly wiggy from your fall, I'd tell you I like it even if I didn't. But, I do like it. I'm going to be a real babe magnet in this." He walked over to his bags, unzipped the carry on and pulled out a wrapped present, handing it to me. "Merry Christmas, Mags."

I opened it up and there was a bracelet with rubies surrounded by diamonds. A perfect match for the necklace and earrings he bought me when I was young. My whole body felt tense, my back went into spasms.

"Agggggghhhhhhhh." I grabbed my back.

Greg came around and supported me as my knees began to buckle, "Let's get you flat and pump some Vicodin into you."

I went back to bed, wondering how I was going to explain to him when he asked about the bracelet. He brought me water and Vicodin to take. I raised my head a little to swallow and then put my head back down.

"You took one look at the bracelet I bought you and you went into spasms. What's going on?"

"Greg, it's the most beautiful bracelet I've ever owned."

He sat down on top of the bed, "Didn't you notice that it will go with the necklace and earrings I got you when we first lived together?"

"Oh I noticed. But…I don't have those anymore?"

His mouth dropped open, "_You lost them?"_

"I returned them for the money."

His face flushed with anger, "You returned the set for a refund?"

"I needed the money! Jack was out of money and I needed money to do my internship in Atlanta. It was the only thing I had of value. Hey, don't forget, you were supposedly no longer a part of my life."

His voice had that righteous tone he gets sometimes, "The proper etiquette would have been to return them to me."

I was surprised as to how upset he was, "Greg, because of that gift, I managed to find the path in medicine I was supposed to take. You should be proud that you gave me that opportunity."

He was about to say something, but threw his head back, miffed and huffed. A few minutes later, "I'm glad my gift caused you some pain. Now you know how I feel."

I sighed, "You don't mean that." I looked over at him and could tell he was thawing. "Damn I need to soak this spasm out. The doctor prescribed me Flexeril. I haven't taken any, do you think you could go out and get me one? They're on the counter."

He got up, went into the bathroom and started the bath and then brought me back a Flexeril. I was feeling guilty, not only for selling the set years ago, but for letting it ruin our first Christmas as husband and wife.

He helped me up and I managed to make it to the bathroom. Between the hot soak and the Flexeril, I fell asleep. The water turned cold and when I woke, it was freezing, "Greg?"

He came into the bathroom holding a medical journal. "Yes, mistress?"

'What time is it?"

"11:15 am. You've been in there for two and a half hours. Ready to get out, or are we still a little dirty?"

My skin was shriveled and I looked like a Sharpei, "I'm ready." When we got me out, I was feeling better, so we watched television, a couple of DVDs and played Jeopardy on my computer. Greg won two out of three games because jazz columns came up in two of the games and I know nothing about jazz. I went out to scrounge up dinner, but didn't last too long on my feet. I managed to make us soup and crackers. Greg took over, made some sandwiches and we ate in the bedroom. After dinner, Greg spent an hour on the phone with his team going over patient stats and differentials. I fell asleep.

He left the next day, rushing back to Princeton at the hospital's expense to work on the patient who had checked in on Christmas morning. Before he left he gave me a nice kiss and, making eye contact, said, his voice low and sensual, "Get well and come see me. You owe me two visits now. I love you."

"Okay, I love you too honey." Hearing the door close broke my heart.

Two weeks later I gave the CDC my resignation and a week after that, I flew home whacked out on Flexeril and Vicodin. Greg drove me back to the apartment with a big grin on his face.

"You're awfully smug." I remarked.

"You're brother was right."

"My brother?"

"I was about to board the plane to get the annulment and he bet me that you'd quit the CDC and be back, living with me within three months. First time I lost a bet that I didn't mind."

"Is that why you married me? Instead of flying to Hawaii?"

"Yeah, Mags…I married you to win a 20 bet. What do you think? He made sense. He told me that when push came to shove, you'd always choose family and if I was just patient, you'd choose me over the CDC."

I resigned myself to the fact that my brother was not only right, but had managed to convince Greg not to go to Hawaii. I didn't quit my job without a lot of painful moaning from Atlanta. In fact, they gave me a year to think about it. If I re-joined them within a year, I could keep all my bennies and perks. I came home and the minute I walked through the door, the baby flipped. I laughed, I felt like doing a cartwheel too.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I looked around the apartment, "You know we're going to have to buy a house?"

"Yeah, I figured sleeping in the same room with a teenage boy in sixteen years probably wouldn't cut it. Of course it depends on how much he loooovvves his mother."

"Gross. Do you know a realtor?"

"Wilson's ex-wife is one."

"I'll call her tomorrow."


	52. Chapter 26 Part IV

**Maggie's Story **

**Chapter 26 Part IV**

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

My mission in life was to find us a house. Greg's mission was to stay in the one bedroom apartment for as long as he could. Fortunately, I wasn't working and he was. In three weeks, I saw twenty-two houses narrowing them to four that I showed Greg. But he nixed each of them. I came up with a strategy. I dragged him to every three story 1.9 million dollar house I could find and begged him to buy them.

"You must be nuts! We're talking 12,000 a month…leaving us 5,000 to live on?"

"But, I'll find a job! We'll be able to afford it. Oh honey, look at the 16 acres out back!"

"Are you going to mow it?"

It went like this for the whole weekend until I threw a temper tantrum. "You're not helping me! I expect you to make a decision soon, or I'll do it for you and sign a contract. I'll buy a house from my brother in Philadelphia and you can commute to see us on the weekend."

"That sounds like the best idea yet."

I laughed, knowing he'd jump on that idea, "Yeah and see how much nookie you get when you arrive on the weekend and all I can think of is getting some sleep after being the only one taking care of a baby. You haven't got a clue how hard it is to squeeze in time together…you take it when you can…narrowing it to a weekend really curtails your options."

He gave me one of those little teenager pouts, annoyed with me for ruining his plan. He knew the gig was up, so did I. I had to strike while the iron was hot. I had been saving two ranch houses to show him for just the right time. They were both close to Princeton University, both just above a million dollars. He actually took time going through each of them. I had looked at just about every ranch in Princeton and had selected these two homes for their convenience to the things that Greg loved, including the hospital, and the amenities I wanted. Either one would be closer than the apartment to work. They both had two or more acres with woods. They also had swimming pools.

Greg looked out the back door as Wilson's ex flitted around, "Okay, this one."

There was a finality to his voice that made me realized that I was standing in my new home, whether I liked it or not. Thank God, I liked it, "Fine." I looked at the MLS printout. "They're asking 1.2 million dollars. I say we offer 1.1 and listen for the screaming."

Bonnie shrugged, "They've had it on the market for three months and no offers. We can try it and see where it ends up."

It ended up that we got the house for 1, 135,000 and I was over the moon. Bonnie's cut was 34,000 so she gave us a 500 gift certificate to Lowes. I immediately bought paint for the entire house. Did I consult Greg? No. He would have moaned about my choices. I hired some college students to paint and we moved in on March 1st, with the same three college students helping us.

Greg walked in with a lamp and moaned, "What the fu…What color is this?"

"Persimmon." I smiled, "Isn't it luscious?"

He turned the corner into the next room and I heard an even louder groan, "Oh my God, you can't believe that this looks good?"

I followed him into the family room, "Greg…it's beige!"

He pulled his head back and took off his sunglasses, "Really?"

"Greg, I've left you the finished basement for all your toys and your music, except for piano. We'll keep it in the living room for looks. We have five bedrooms, we'll use one as the playroom, one as an office, one for the baby and one for the guests. I figured the guest house out back can be for a nanny if I go back to work."

Greg narrowed his eyes, "Oh no you don't,_ I _get the guest room. That's where all my 'toys' are going, including my piano."

"Greg, you're not going to win this battle so forget it."

"Maggie, I need a cave to go to…away from you and the munchkin."

"Honey, come downstairs with me."

He went down the twelve stairs, "To start with, twelve stairs?"

"It won't kill you and you know it. You need the exercise so stop moaning." We reached the bottom of the stairs, "Now look. I'm thinking a bar down there. Big flat screen television on the wall. Built in bookcases around the fireplace and we store your instruments high on the wall or in the closet. It's got thick carpeting and I plan on having an extra layer of insulation and drywall added to the ceiling so that the noise is contained. I had a contractor over the other day and he's ready to start a week from Monday. If you don't want to hang down here after I'm done decorating, fine, we'll move you outside."

He eyed me with that suspicious look he gets, head tilted, brow furred, eyes narrowed, "What do I get in return?"

"My undying love and devotion."

"I get to name the baby." He said soberly, waiting for my reaction.

Chuckling I asked, "Or what?"

"I take over the nanny quarters. And, if we have a nanny, I get her too."

"Dream on."

"Okay, I come up with three names, but you have to pick one of them."

"Excuse me, but do I have a sign around my neck that says, "Stupid?"

"Okay, I get to give him his first name, you can give him his middle name and, if you don't like his first name, we'll call him by his middle name."

I pretended to grab around my chest, looking for something, "I'm sure that sign is somewhere around here."

"Maggie, so far, this baby has been all about you. You owe me this."

"Greg, this is a child, not a new disease. His name will follow him all his life."

He snorted, "Knowing you, his mother will too."

"Why do you want to name the baby?" I was standing with a potted plant in my arms looking for the right place to sit it down. "Put the lamp over there." I turned when I heard the movers.

"Lady, this box says 'kitchen', where do you want it?"

Greg and I looked at each other and broke up laughing. "You can take it into the _kitchen_," I answered.

The subject came up again as we were unpacking, but he still couldn't vocalize why he wanted to name the baby or what he wanted to name him.

"Bring me a list of ten names and if they aren't out on this world, I'll pick one."

"Five names and you _have_ to pick one."

"I get to name the middle name?"

He nodded and drank his beer.

I was actually glad that I had agreed to let him name the baby; the search for the perfect name kept him occupied for weeks, freeing me up to decorate everything and supervise the construction downstairs. I wouldn't let him downstairs, but I'm sure when I was gone, he was probably down there playing with all the gadgets. When it was done, I couldn't pry him out of the basement with a crowbar except for when he played piano. He was like a mole down there and only came up for food and sex. Sometimes he'd stick his head up out of the stairwell and yell for me to get him a six pack. We now had a full kitchen and bar downstairs, but for some reason, it always ran dry of beer.

He loved his lair. The house was a large ranch, meaning the basement was large too. It was made up of four areas. One was a storage room, rather large and cavernous. The second was a bar/kitchen with slate tile on the floor and a curved bar plus fireplace. There was a table and chairs and a built in sofa. But Greg spent most of his time in the play room area on his leather sofa in front of the 54 inch plasma that hung above the fireplace. There was a Bose Stereo and surround sound. Fooseball, a folded up ping pong table and poker table. Over in the corner was the music wall. All of his instruments, amplifiers and cds were in one area. The records were stored in the opposite corner with a turntable. Next to the leather sofa was another sofa that made into a bed. Being Catholic, I was always prepared to house large groups despite the fact that only my brother and his family ever descended on us, hence the sofa in the basement and the family room both made into beds. There was a full bath downstairs and a room with a computer and book shelves full of our mutual books.

I soon realized I had made a mistake by finishing out the basement. I rarely saw my husband unless I went downstairs. He and Jim could hole up down there all day and not come up for air. If I got lonely, I'd open the door and announce I was coming down. I don't know why I felt compelled to let him know I was entering the basement, but I always felt like I was walking into his private apartment. I think in some ways the basement kept our marriage intact. It was as if we were separate, but equal. We each had our own domain and the only common soil was the king sized bed where we often occupied the same space at the same time.

We, or I should say, I, gave a housewarming party, inviting most of the doctors in the hospital, some nurses, Cuddy and some of my friends from Philadelphia. I was surprised when most of the people showed up. I had foolishly thought I could do the cooking and arrangements. Luckily Cuddy convinced me at the last minute to hire a few college kids to serve and keep the place picked up.

I had made enough food, but my back was now hurting, a combination of my previous injury and the weight of the baby. Jim and I had been discussing the importance of children's names and Greg's fascination with them.

I looked around, "There's more people here than I expected."

Jim nodded, "There was a lot of pleading at the hospital. If you didn't have a date to this, people were begging for you to bring them. Everyone wants to see how Greg House lives. I'm pretty sure they were expecting Castle Dracula. You've done a beautiful job with the house."

I was standing by the counter when I heard Greg talking to a man about his age, "Yeah, she's the one with the big ass and watermelon in front. Nah, she's not pregnant, she's just fat."

I turned towards him and he shrugged his shoulders. The man came over to me.

The man had a drink in his hand, "Dr. Malone?"

I put down the empty tray of stuffed mushrooms, "Yes?" I tried to smile.

"I'm Lester Johnson, President of PPTH medical school. I've been talking to Dean Cuddy and the board. We've decided that there are few schools really filling the need for public medicine."

"What about the Woodrow Wilson School of Public and International Affairs at Princeton?" I asked.

He shook his head, "Medicine is only a small percentage of what they address in their curricula. We're talking about a whole med school program dedicated to public medicine."

"I see the need for it, but why PPTH?"

"We compete with several medical schools in the area. In order to remain competitive, we need to find a niche that's not being filled. Dr. Malone, whenever any doctor thinks of the CDC, they think of you. We want you to set up and run our Public Medicine School. You'd be Dean of Education. We'd match your CDC salary along with a generous bonus and benefits package."

I was stunned. Here I stood, playing Suzie homemaker, heavily pregnant and aching all over, and I was being offered an incredible job. "Contrary to what my husband says, I'm pregnant, not fat, so…"

He laughed, "I figured that. We're planning to start the program next year. So you could start in August, you know, putting together a curricula to get it through the AMA and the New Jersey Board of Education."

"I've never taught."

"Not true. Your articles never read like typical medical journal articles. They read like a lesson plan. Easy for all of us to understand. You'll do well in education, Dr. Malone."

"Call me Maggie."

"Call me Les."

We shook hands and discussed when it would be best for me to come and see him.

The party went well, winding down around 11:00 pm. with only Jim, Lisa and myself sitting in the family room doing the post mortum on the party.

Cuddy yawned and looked around,"Maggie, this house is bigger that it looks from the outside. And the basement is huge. Do you use it much?"

"No. Greg has taken over the basement. I only get down here by invitation."

They all laughed.

She picked up her drink, "So did you accept the job?"

I looked at Greg who cocked his head in anticipation, "Job?" He asked.

"I was offered Dean of Education for PPTH. They want me to come up with a curricula heavy in public medicine."

Greg smiled and sat back, "Maggie, you're the perfect person for the position. Maggie the Nazi…you'll whip everyone into shape." Greg looked at Lisa, "But that's going to put you two in direct competition for the same pool of funds."

Lisa gave a curt nod acknowledging it. I didn't understand what he meant, but it sure silenced everyone. Later, when we were in bed, holding each other, he warned me.

"Cuddy has always butted heads with the Dead of Education. It's a delicate dance. The programs you put into place take money and sometimes that comes from the hospital's budget. Plus, you need us to implement the training…that takes up her resources too." He started chuckling.

"What are you laughing at?"

"Maggie, most people don't know the real you. They think you're this sweet, funny, energetic doctor. They don't know that underneath lies Attila the Hun mixed with a little Ghengis Khan. You can be fearsome, intimidating, daunting. Cuddy is probably thinking she's got it made in the shade. I'd love to be there when reality dawns."

"Go to sleep."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Greg, come here." I yelled down into the basement.

"At the commercial. Veronica Mars is just about to take down the bad guys..oh! There she goes."

"_Greg! Get your sorry ass up here now!"_

"Ahhhh, Mags…a few minutes."

"Not unless you want to die an unnatural death."

He hobbled up the stairs. Clearly pissed and frustrated, he gave me a smirk, "Yesssss, dear?"

I pulled him into the master bathroom, "Is that it?"

He was looking everywhere but in the toilet where I was pointing. I grabbed his head, pulling his head down, pointing into the toilet, "Greg…is that it?"

He finally looked down and was immediately mesmerized by what he saw. He looked at the bowl from different angles. "I assume I'm not looking at the color of your pee."

"Greg, this isn't funny."

"Alright, I'm staring at what looks like a wispy white snot ball. Yep, I think that's it."

I started jumping up and down, "Oh, God! I didn't see it last time. This means he's here!"

Greg winced and with absolutely no enthusiasm looked at me, "Oh…great…he's coming."

"Uh, maybe you ought to get me that list of names…looks like we're going to need them soon."

He was still looking in the toilet."Can I flush now?"

I nodded. He flushed.

We walked into the family room, plopping my overly round body onto the couch, worried I might roll off if I didn't anchor myself down. He sat down next to me and leaned forward on his arms, running his hand through his hair.

I cocked my head and giggled, "You're wigged out."

He looked at me and shook his head, "Maggie, you've done this before, but I haven't. I don't know nothin' about birthin' babies."

"Honey, give me that list of names. It will take your mind off of it."

He got up and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. He started writing. When he was done, he handed the paper to me. I looked down and was blown away.

_Dacey - house_

_Colum - dove_

_Quinn –Chief; hound_

_Turlough – instigator_

_Brogan- little shoe_

_Crevan- fox_

_Mathuin- Bear_

_Ryan –little king_

_Donal – world ruler_

_Cary –dark one_

My mouth fell open, "Greg, these are all Irish names."

He nodded, "I figured I had a better chance in you agreeing to one if I appealed to your Gaelic sense of duty."

"Most of these are pretty masculine, except little shoe."

He gave me a one of his mischievous grins, "It's a nod to the most warped emperor of all time."

I thought about it…"Oh! Little boot…you want to name our child after Caligula?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "Only you and I would have to know."

Well, Cary and Ryan are the two most "normal" names. But I really like Mathuin."

He smiled, "I thought you'd like it. Then Mathuin it is."

I nodded, "Mathuin Malone House."

He snickered, "Sounds like a rehabilitation facility."

I laughed and then felt a twinge. "Oh! I felt something!"

He looked at his watch, "Nine-thirty-seven. I need to get my video camera ready."

"I'm going to call Jack and Theresa. You call Jim."

He gave me a face, "Huh? Why would Wilson care?"

"He asked that we call him when I went into labor."

"Well, you're not exactly in labor."

I put my hand on my hip, "I just had the show and now I'm feeling twinges."

He put his hands up and fluttered them, "Ewwww, we've had a twinge. Honey, a twinge is not a contraction."

I bent over grimacing, "No, but that was. Give me your cell."

Greg got up and went over to the counter and got the land line, "You use this, I'll call Wilson."

We notified our respective family and friends to be on the alert and that we'd call them in the morning. I got up, did some last minute things around the house, made sure I was packed, reminded Greg to install the baby seat in the car and then went to bed. He stayed up and had a stiff drink.

At midnight, I climbed out of bed to look for Greg and found him downstairs in the basement watching television. He was drunk and I was livid.

"Jesus Christ! Greg!"

He grinned at me, "Come here honey, I'm celebrating my last night of freedom. Have a drink…oops, sorry. Sit down Mags. I need to tell you something."

Chills went down my spine. I was sure he was going to tell me that he didn't really want the baby, that he couldn't handle a child.

"Sit down." His head was weaving and bobbing. As I sat down a contraction hit. I doubled over, moaning. He helped me sit down. "Contraction? Now that was a nice one."

"Okay Greg, I'm sitting, what did you need to tell me?"

"I'm pretty sure that I'm not going to be the best Dad. I've been thinking about it for the last nine months. I'm about to be a father and I haven't even grown up. But, surprisingly, I keep thinking that this is bitchin'. I'm stoked…I can't wait to teach him how to spank the monkey. We're gonna be tight." He held up his two crossed fingers, "Real tight."

I blinked at the thought of my husband showing my son how to masturbate, "You're being metaphorical, right?"

"Huh?"

Contraction.

"Greg, I came down because my contractions are three minutes apart. We need to get to the hospital and you're too drunk to drive me."

"Ohhhh!" He realized what I was saying. "We could take a cab!"

"I'm calling Jim."

Half an hour later, Jim was pouring me and Greg into the back seat of his car. I was grabbing Greg's arm and pulling on it whenever a contraction started. He'd just giggle.

I growled, "This isn't funny!"

He kept laughing at me, "You're so _big Maggie!_ When we have sex, I feel like I'm screwing a beach ball. I mean, it's hot, but I'll be glad when we can vary the positions."

I was writhing in pain.

He screwed up his face in mock seriousness, "I'm glad it's you and not me. You don't sound too hot. But you go baby…you're bitchin'."

I wasn't amused. Here I thought with a doctor for a husband, I'd have good support. Instead I had a happy go lucky, good for nothing, punch drunk husband as my cheer leader. Greg brought out two wheelchairs, one for me and one for him. He started doing wheelies and racing Jim and me down the halls. I was admitted and while they were prepping me, Greg did magic tricks for the nurses.

When Dr. Halloran came in, I was worried about pain medication, "Dr. Halloran, when should I get the epidural?"

Greg piped up, "Honey, you should have had the epidural when you found out you were pregnant."

Dr. Halloran shook her head as she examined me, "We can't give you one, you're already at 7 centimeters. You're going to go into transition soon."

"_What? No epidural?"_ Okay, I admit it, you heard it right here, I'm a wimp.

Greg bent down, "Don't worry honey, I've got some Vicodin in my pocket, want one?"

I just shook my head. "Greg you need to sit down before you fall over."

Jim walked over and sat Greg down.

"Maggie? What's with Greg?" Dr. Halloran kept looking at Greg out of the corner of her eye.

"He's drunk."

She laughed, "Oh, how convenient." She looked down and I could feel the contraction coming again. "Maggie, I can feel the top of his head. You're very close."

Greg looked up, "Hey, I just had my hand up there last night and didn't feel anything."

I didn't even blink, I was too wrapped up in pushing to care about his stupid remarks. Jim was filming for us and I wondered if he had caught everything Greg was saying. It didn't matter, I was ready to get this over with. When I felt the next contraction I barfed all over myself.

"Wow Mags, I didn't know you bought strawberries! Why didn't you tell me? We could have had Strawberry Coladas!"

The strawberries were now all over my gown and the floor. Jim just shook his head and kept filming.

"Greg," Dr. Halloran called to him, "You can see your son's head. Would you like to take a peek?"

"I have the next 18 years to see his head, I'll pass."

I started shaking, my jaw clenched,"Greg…_get your ass over her and look at the baby's head! Now!"_

He gave me a startled look and then stuck out his lower lip, "Geesh…alright. I'm getting up and walking over now."

He stumbled over and tilted his head down, "That's it? I walked over here to see that?"

Dr. Halloran nodded, "That's the head."

"He's bald."

Halloran ignored him. "Maggie, you need to push when I tell you." There was a pause, we all looked at the fetal monitor strapped around my abdomen, "Okay, push…push. Hard!"

I pushed and watched as Greg's eyes grew wide. I reached between my legs and could feel a head coming out. Greg looked at me, white as a sheet, blood draining faster than I ever imagined it could

"Greg?" I said in between the contraction. "Jim, he's looking strange."

Jim dropped the camera and looked at Greg, "House? You look scared to death. Maybe you better sit down."

Greg looked at Jim, his face filled with horror, "It's official, I'm going to be a Dad. I was hoping that maybe she might have a puppy." He nodded towards the head slightly protruding from me, "But, that's definitely human, isn't it?"

Jim nodded and patted Greg's shoulder. I went into a contraction and after more screams to push, the entire head was out and being filmed. I hadn't really wanted the "birth" filmed, just the goings on in the room, but frankly, at that point, OJ Simpson could have come in and delivered me and I wouldn't have cared. I just wanted the kid out!

Halloran kept watching Greg out of the corner of her eye as he stood motionless, eyes fixed on our son's cottage cheese head. The nurse held up a mirror so I could see his head, I started crying. Greg looked at me sweetly.

"Oh honey, don't cry. We can get a puppy later."

We all busted up. The next contraction hit, there was a lot of action. Jim continued filming and our son made his debut at 2:04 am. Greg snipped the cord and looked him over like only Greg can do. The nurse waited impatiently for him to hand the baby to her.

"Greg, you've got to let them have him so they can run the tests."

"Man, he's got some tackle on him. He must get it from your side. Christ Maggie, he's got red hair! I mean, what little there is looks really red!"

The nurse took him, and started wiping, weighing, measuring and scoring him for the charts and our anxious ears. Swaddled in a receiving blanket, they handed my son back to his father who started to walk off with him.

I narrowed my brow and demanded, "Greg bring Mathuin back!"

Jim looked at me, "Mathuin?"

"Yeah, Greg picked it; it means bear."

Jim howled. "Oh, that's going to win him brownie points in school!"

"Jim, could you get my son back in here? I'd like to hold him."

They cleaned me up while Jim hunted father and son down. He found House and Mathuin upstairs, on the roof.

**Readers: Tomorrow is my last day before I go on vacation...so I am going to post like crazy today and tomorrow to finish this. You have about thirty pages left or about four more posts. Enjoy! I'd appreciate any reviews, thanks.**


	53. Chapter 27 Part I Just When I Thought I

**Maggie's Story **

**Chapter 27 Part I**

**Just When I Thought I Was Out**

"House, you need to bring the baby inside. It's too cold out here."

House smiled at Wilson, "I just thought he'd like to see the stars on the night he was born. Full moon too. It's beautiful out, isn't it?"

Wilson smiled, "Yeah, actually it's a nice spring night. But your wife would still like to hold her son for the first time."

"Maggie's pretty good at this, isn't she?"

"Maggie's pretty good at a lot of things. But she seems to handle pregnancy and labor well."

House smiled down at his son, "I don't think we'll do this again."

Wilson took a step towards him, "You mean, you don't want any more children?"

House shook his head, "I'm almost too old now. This isn't going to be easy at our age. I'll be almost 68 when he's 18 years old. Christ, I'll be retiring, maybe dead."

Wilson could actually see the logic, but worried about Maggie. He knew that she didn't buy a five bedroom house to stop at one child. Still, she had gotten one more out of House than Wilson thought she would. Wilson put out his arms to hold the baby. House handed him over. Looking at the little face and body, bundled tightly and fast asleep, Wilson felt pangs of longing for a child of his own.

House shook his head, "Sorry dude, you have to go out and make your own. I'd sell him to ya, but I don't think Maggie would go along with it."

Wilson snorted and shook his head, "You're a lucky man, House. I just hope you know how lucky you are."

House nodded, "It scares me to know how lucky I am." They looked at each other and smiled, "Hey, thanks for everything."

"Ah, it was nothing. I wasn't asleep anyway."

"No…I mean thanks for being who you are and …crap. Let's go back in."

Wilson followed House back inside, smiling to himself. Greg House was getting emotional. Truly the End of Days was here. They arrived back in the delivery room to find that Maggie had been moved to her own room. When they arrived, Maggie had dropped off to sleep and a bassinette waited for Mathuin. House sat in a rocker and held his son, saying goodnight to Wilson who went home to get some sleep.

Around 4:00 am while House was sleeping in the rocker, Mathuin, now tucked into his plexiglass bassinette, started crying, waking Maggie from the sleep of the dead. She knew her milk hadn't come in, but there would be plenty of colostrum, high in protein, carbohydrates and antibiotics, to give to him. Maggie reached over and loving lifted her son to her. His blue eyes tried to focus on the blob holding him, but he soon decided that he was too hungry to worry about who was picking him up. Maggie rubbed her nipple over his lips and he latched on, sucking like there was no tomorrow. Maggie chuckled. He was perfect.

Around noon, Jack, Theresa and Mary showed up; Luke was still in school. After a few minutes of fawning over the baby, Theresa and Mary went down to the cafeteria while Jack had a conversation with Maggie.

"Hey, we're having some problems lately with the Wops. They think we hijacked one of the trucks full of Italian suit. I'm not sure that they're wrong. I might have someone in my business doing his own thing, without my permission."

"Well, you better figure it out. Italian suits are not cheap. A truck full of them must be a small fortune."

Jack told her a few more details and moaned that he wished he could retire.

"Well, find someone to take over."

"I would, but there's no one out there with enough brains to do it right and Luke isn't old enough."

Maggie frowned, "You don't really want Luke to take over, do you?"

"I know this sounds like the Godfather, Part III, but I expect most of our business to be legit but the time he's out of college. I'd say 75 percent of it is now."

"I'm impressed. Mostly contracting?"

"Yep, I've switched from residential to commercial buildings, less law suits." Jack told Maggie about his plans, in more detail.

Maggie was happy, she looked forward to the day when the Malones could honestly employ the men and women of Fishtown without having to resort to unsavory business. It was what her father had been aiming for and something Jack and Maggie had wanted too.

Theresa and Mary came back into the room. Theresa smiled, "I have my bags in the car. Can we just swing by the house? Do you have a key?"

Maggie called down to House, "Greg, Theresa's going to stay and help for the next week. You need to give her a key to the house."

"Theresa is coming to stay with us?"

"I don't have a mother to help, so yeah, she's going to stay for a week and then next week your Mom is flying in. I talked to her this morning."

"Oh, whoppeee. This isn't my idea of a threesome you know."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Do all babies come with this much equipment? It's ridiculous." House complained as he took Bear out of his car seat." Maggie got out of the car and took the baby from House. Theresa came running down the sidewalk to the drive.

"Ohhhh, let me take him!"

Maggie handed Bear to Theresa and then grabbed the baby stuff out of the back. House took the carrier inside. Maggie could smell dinner cooking and smiled, Theresa was making corned beef and soda bread.

After settling down, Maggie took a long bath, only getting out when Bear made a fuss over wanting some food. Her milk still hadn't come in, but Maggie was pretty sure it would by tomorrow. She still had plenty of Colostrum to feed the howling child. Maggie sat in the family room, rocking Bear and feeding him. House watched as if he was studying the mating habits of the tsetse fly. "Greg, it's a baby and a breast. What's the big deal?"

"I'm amazed at how hard he sucks. Doesn't it hurt?"

"My nipples are getting chapped so I suspect they'll be bleeding soon, but it only hurts when he first latches on. He has to suck hard because the colostrum is pretty thin and running out. Which reminds me, go get some formula in case my milk doesn't come in fast enough."

"I already bought some Maggie." Theresa piped up.

But the formula wasn't necessary. By the next day, Bear was happily nursing on his mother's milk. Theresa was a trooper, running around doing the wash, cooking the meals and taking care of the baby so Maggie could nap. Maggie was sad to see her go when she left five days later.

The next day, House picked up his mother from the airport. Blythe, dressed in a pant suit and colorful scarf around her neck, was excited. She kept grinning at her son, "Greg, you're first child! Are you nervous?"

"Actually, Mom, he's not my first. Maggie's daughter, Bridget, the one who died, was mine too."

His mother stared, unable to comprehend what he had just said, "Wait, you had a daughter and didn't tell me?"

"It's kind of difficult to explain. I let Maggie's first husband raise her. I wasn't ready to be a father." He saw the disappointment in his mother's eyes, "Mom, I was still doing my residency. I asked Maggie to come live with me, but she wouldn't, not unless I married her. I wasn't exactly enamored with marriage since the only one I knew wasn't exactly a bed of roses. I said no to marriage and so she married the other guy."

Blythe's face dropped, her eyelids closed as she slowly shook her head in dismay, "Oh Greg, you abandoned your child? Your child? Didn't you ever go see her, tell her who you were?"

"Mom, she was two when she died. No, I never met her." He looked at his mother again and saw the disappointment deepening, "Mom, I was a lot younger. I made a huge mistake. I know that now."

She wasn't convinced, "Greg, you were, what? Thirty? Not seventeen. You were a full grown adult and should have taken responsibility for your child. I don't know how you did it."

"Look, can we concentrate on the positive things I've done. I married her and I'm raising my son. Don't I get kudos for that?"

Blythe looked at him sideways, "You want to be given a pat on the back for marrying the only woman who can live with you and not run screaming into the night? And kudos for raising your child? Greg, grow up, you're fifty next month."

House sulked all the way home, pissed that his mother didn't appreciate the sacrifice he made in his lifestyle to adopt domesticity.

Blythe was a tremendous help to Maggie. Bear was waking every three hours to be fed, making it difficult for Maggie to get any rest. Blythe took the early morning shift, Greg the late one. Maggie would feed the baby and hand him off to Greg or Blythe, allowing her to get a couple extra hours of sleep. Blythe adored her grandson, grateful that she had a grandchild to spoil while she was still alive. She thought he was perfect with his big blue House eyes, shocking red peach fuzz for hair, pert nose and inquisitive look. Bear desperately wanted to focus on her face, but couldn't. It was so cute, his furred browed, serious little face, the desperate attempts to keep his eyes fixed on her. He liked singing and went to sleep whenever Maggie or Blythe sang to him. House tried the piano, which made him curious, not sleepy. He didn't cry when his father played, but he didn't go to sleep. It was if he wanted to know where that sound was coming from because he heard it through amniotic fluid and now it sounded different!

After a few days, House decided he couldn't handle being in a house with two women and a baby, so he went to work to escape. Blythe sat down on the couch while Maggie fed Bear.

"Maggie, may I see some photos of my granddaughter? Would you tell me about her?"

Maggie's mouth dropped and her eyes softened, "Oh Blythe, he told you?"

She nodded.

Maggie swallowed, "Let me get the baby down and I'll get some out."

"Her name was Bridget?"

"Bridget Magdalena O'Leary, but since she wasn't really an O'Leary and they had disowned her, I put Malone on her gravestone. She was a sweet baby, rarely cried, always smiling. Even when she had a fever, she'd laugh and play. But she had a temper too. If you took away her favorite toy or refused to give her a bottle, she'd turn red in the face and start yelling. Those big blue eyes of her would get bright and she'd pout. We tried not to laugh at her, but Jack said she was Maggie Jr." Maggie had to take a deep breath. Blythe reached out, tears welling in her own eyes.

"How did she die?"

Maggie told Blythe as much as possible. She showed her photos and even let Blythe have one of the photos Maggie prized most. Maggie promised that, before Blythe left, she would take her to see Bridget's grave.

Saturday morning, a reluctant House, buckled his son into the car seat and took off to Philadelphia. He found himself holding his son in his carrier while two women cried on each other's shoulders next to an upright stone, carved with an angel holding a little girl, which read,

Bridget Magdalena Malone

Beloved Daughter

Mischievous Angel

1992-1994

House looked at Bear and thought about his sister. He had grown rather fond of the drooling, sleeping, shitting, peeing, crying creature. Now he knew just what he had missed seventeen years ago. The women placed flowers. His mom took a photo and then wanted them to all stand in front of it. House was reluctant; there was something maudlin about posing as a family when one of you was dead and in the ground. But Maggie and his mother didn't seem to see anything odd about it. So House picked the baby up out of the carrier and held him while his Mom took the photo.

After Blythe went back to California, House and Maggie struggled to find a routine. Maggie couldn't count on House to get home every night, so most of the childcare fell on her shoulders, making Maggie tired and crabby most of the time. After a week of colic, Bear was looking frazzled, almost as frazzled as his mother. Maggie threw herself onto the sofa and sighed as soon as she managed to get Bear down in his crib for the evening. House was tired and hungry.

"Dinner?" He asked.

Maggie looked at House, "I'm sorry honey, he's been inconsolable, colicky. Can we order in? I need to eat and get some sleep before he wakes up again."

House cleared his throat. "I was hoping to get a little action."

She opened one eye and looked at him, "Excuse me? It's not even a month yet…they recommend waiting six weeks."

"Well, I don't necessarily mean intercourse. There are _other_ ways you can make me happy."

"One of them is to get enough rest so that I don't fall apart."

He frowned, "Usually people do nice things for me on my birthday."

_"Oh crap! I completely forgot!_ _And it's your fiftieth!_"Maggie sighed and grimaced, "Oh Greg, it's just that it's been a rough night and day with him. Honey, can I make it up to you? Can we celebrate your birthday on July 11th instead?"

House contemplated it, "Mags, I could really use a little, well, a little release if you know what I mean?"

_"_Honey, that's why God gave you a hand."

"And you a mouth."

"I'm not going to win today am I? Unzip your pants."

"Here,? Now?"

"As Elvis said, 'It's now or never.'"

He unzipped his pants and Maggie reached inside. House stopped her, "Wait, let me take the belt and button off, I don't want him getting hung up on the zipper." He undid his pants and slid them down. Maggie, about ready to fall asleep, dipped her head down and took the partially erect penis in her mouth. It didn't take long for House to respond. She kept sucking and licking, pumping his shaft as fast as she could as they both sat on the sofa.

House started thrusting up, "Ohhh, ohhh, ooohhhh. Yeah, yeah…oooohhh."

Maggie felt the warmth of the semen as House ejaculated in the back of her throat. She was just grateful that he came so fast. When she was done, semen dripping out of her mouth, she looked at him with circles under her eyes, hair out of place and no makeup. "Happy Birthday, honey."

He could see just how tired she really was and he felt a twinge of guilt, but it passed. He got what he wanted most that night and didn't really mind that Maggie looked a little bedraggled. He felt calm, relaxed and ready for a beer.

She got up, grabbed a glass of water, swigged half of it and smiled at him, "I don't even care if I eat. I'm going to bed. Goodnight, honey. Happy birthday again."

And then House got the next thing on his lists of desires, a night by himself.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

July was a muggy scorcher. Maggie stayed inside with Bear to take advantage of the air conditioning, but she was getting cabin fever. House finally agreed to give Maggie a day off, so he took Bear with him to work. As he strolled through the entry, pushing bear in his pram, staff members kept running over to take a look at the curious infant.

"Oh, he's getting so big!" was a common comment, along with, "Where'd he get the red hair?" House was still waiting for the prying fingers to be removed from the pram when Cuddy showed up.

"Ahhhh! Mathuin! He's so sweet!" She didn't just pry, she snatched him up, "What's Mathuin doing here? You want him to catch something?"

"I'm taking him up to my office. My day care pooped out on me."

"Day care?"

"Maggie. So, I had to bring Bear with me today. He'll be okay, that's why I have Thirteen. If she doesn't feel maternal, Cameron does. I wonder if they can breast feed?" He shook his head as if he was thinking too hard.

"I'll go up with you." She rode up in the elevator with House, "How's Mags?"

"She's draggin' her ass. Always tired. We were officially supposed to have sex yesterday, but I caught her snoring when I felt her up. If she doesn't put out soon, I'm hiring a nanny and doing the nanny."

Cuddy shook a finger at him, "Well, she's not a twenty year old. Having a baby is rough. Having one at forty is even rougher."

"Yeah, well physician, listen to thyself. You were hellbent to have one when you were thirty-nine."

"Ah, but at least I was in my thirties."

House laughed, "Good one."

House was amazed as to how much time he had to spend taking care of Bear. It seriously cut into his play time on the computer. But, House was surprised as to how fast he responded to Bear's noises, a sneeze, a mew, a cry, and House ran over to the pram. And then the colic kicked in. Five women and one exhausted father rocked, bounced, cooed, fed, sang to and changed a crying baby boy. After two hours straight, House went to the pharmacy and got some Benydryl, giving his son a teaspoon to calm him down.

Cuddy shook her head, "I don't believe you're drugging your son to keep him from crying."

"You have a better idea? I need to go over the differential on the new patient or would you prefer that I let the others handle the Congressman?"

Cuddy looked around and sighed, rushing out the door.

Cameron exhaled, exhausted from helping House, "You need to take Maggie roses. If she's doing this every day, it must be incredibly draining. Whew, I'm glad I'm not having kids."

House looked at her sideways, "But, doesn't the Mackeral want them?"

"Oh, well, we broke up last week over that very issue."

House cocked an eyebrow, "Being Catholic or having children?"

She shrugged, "Both, kinda. He's Catholic and he wants kids. I don't." She nodded at the sleeping Bear, "Now you know why."

House chortled, "I couldn't agree with you more." House paused and smiled down at Bear, who had managed to sooth himself by putting his thumb in his mouth. "Except I for some reason my inner gene pool is telling me to protect his red assed, red haired, blue eyed, DNA. I told Wilson I don't sacrifice self for anything. But, you're looking at the exception to the rule." He looked up at Cameron, "Do I want another kid? Hell, no. But, I've got to admit, I kinda like him. And it is different when he's carrying your genetic legacy. You tolerate a lot more crap."

She shook her head and stared in amazement, "I would never have expected you to sound so…domestic."

"Please don't insult me!" He gave a loud 'huff' as he walked back over to his computer to do some work.


	54. Chapter 27 Part II

**Maggie's Story **

**©Brogan 2008**

**Chapter 27 Part II**

When House got home, he found Maggie lying on the couch, a magazine on top of her and her head bent back, mouth slightly open, eyes closed. From her breathing, he knew she was deep asleep. He was tired of taking care of the human siren. He kicked the side of the couch, jarring Maggie awake.

"Huh?" she said sitting up abruptly.

"Your turn to keep his crying down to 60 decibels. I'm going downstairs to wait for my dinner to be served to me."

As if on cue, Bear started crying, Maggie's milk let down and she unlatched the nursing bra to let him suckle. She looked at him and noticed he had three different shades of lipstick on him. She tickled his nose, "You're awfully popular." Maggie walked downstairs with Bear and sat on the sofa with House, who had his head back, eyes closed. He opened one eye and looked down at his son's mouth on Maggie's breast.

"Did you come to torture me?"

"No, just to say that if he goes down in a few hours, you might get to enjoy your marital rights. I've got a crockpot full of stew."

"I can smell it, is it down here?"

She nodded to the basement kitchen, "On the counter in there. You can serve yourself, I'm not really hungry; I kept eating when I was cooking it."

House got up and went over to the crockpot. Maggie made a good Irish stew, with lots of beef and carrots. There was soda bread to go with it. It was a one pot meal, but one of House's favorite. He looked out to the couch, "Are you sure you don't want any?"

"I'm sure. Did he go through all the bottles?"

"Yep. He's been handed around to a lot of people today. He might be tuckered out."

"That's exactly what I'm counting on. His eyes are already closing. I'm having to wake him to feed him. When was the last diaper change? Oh, forget that, he just dumped a load. Damn him."

House came back to the couch, sitting his beer and stew on the coffee table, "Better you than me. I had a really nasty diaper just before lunch. Not very appetizing. But I could appreciate the volume, very impressive. If they ever say he's full of shit, I can vouch for it."

Maggie smiled and took Bear upstairs to change. Fifteen minutes later she was on the couch again with Bear finishing up on the other breast. House looked down, reached over and grabbed her free breast.

"You could wait. He's almost out. In fact, I think we can put him to bed now."

House took a fist and pulled his elbow into his side as a sign of triumph. They walked up the stairs, House pinching her butt all the way up. She kept swatting at his hand. Putting Bear in his bassinette, she turned with a grin, running across to the master bedroom. House tackled her and threw her on the bed.

She started giggling, "It's only been two months."

"Two months of watching another man lick and suck those large, gorgeous breasts."

"Another man? That's your newborn son." She started laughing.

"Yeah and he's horning in on my territory. Come here, give me sloppy seconds." He reached under pulled up her top, "Oh, sweet Jesus, come to papa. Love what you've done to them…tough little nips, aren't they?"

"Your son's got a mean vacuum when it comes to dinner…kind of like you and a beer."

His mouth found the tip of her nipple. She could feel the tickle over her aereola sending a wave of hot, sensual feelings to her clit. He latched on, sucking hard. He slipped his hand down her sweat pants. As soon as he found her clit he began rubbing. Maggie moaned.

House pulled his head back, "There's still milk in them thar boobs…I just got a whole mouthful." He looked up as if he was thinking, "It tastes kind of sweet."

"I don't stop producing milk just because he's turned off the tap."

"I feel guilty…I don't want to take food out of his mouth."

"I can give you something else to suck on."

House smiled, "I'm getting there, just keep your pants on…wait, no, take your pants off." He sighed, "I have a feeling that this isn't going to last very long."

Maggie started laughing, "Oh, honey, there will be other opportunities."

House frowned, "Yeah, but by then, you'll be having conjugal visits in the nursing home."

"Ah, baby…come here." Maggie grabbed his neck and pulled him in to kiss him. She ran her tongue along his lips and then his teeth. "Fuck me Greg. Hard."

House took in a deep breath, "You can't say things like that and expect me to last. You're not playing fair."

"Oh, then this is really going to be playing dirty." She undid his jeans, standing up to pull them off. His erection peeked through the slit in his boxers. "Let's take the boxers off too." She pulled them off and then placed her mouth over the head of his erection, licking the cleft up to the tip and back.

"Ohhhhh. That's not fair. I had head on my birthday. I want to get back to your last wish."

"Oh, to fuck me hard?"

"Yeah, we'll start with that one."

She pushed him down onto the bed, slid her sweat pants and panties off, mounting him.

House winced, it felt so deliciously good. "Mags, we should be using a rubber, breast feeding doesn't guarantee anything."

"But honey, if we're going to have another baby, we need to do it while I'm still fertile and young enough to run after them."

House winced again, "Maggie, it's too much on your body. We need to give you some down time."

Maggie looked at him, her head cocked, "You don't want me to get pregnant…ever…"

House could feel his erection losing steam, "Let's get back to business and we can talk babies later."

Maggie shook her head and rolled off, onto her back, "You don't want more children, do you?"

House exhaled, "Oh…damn. I knew this was too good to be true. Maggie, please, let's have sex…we can even have it without a rubber, okay?"

Maggie thought about it, "Sex without a rubber? It's a deal."

House wasn't taking any chances. He rolled over onto Maggie and pinned her down, pushing her legs apart, he slammed up into her. Maggie was shocked by the force of his entry. He wasn't wasting any time. He lifted up on his arms, his t-shirt still on, and watched her breasts bounce as he started sweating with each thrust.

House felt the pressure from his balls up his dick, the friction was too much. It was like lava spewing up and out. He still had her arms pinned above her head, the other holding him up. He let out four short breaths and then shook his head, "Damn it. I knew this would happen."

Maggie smiled, "Don't worry, Bear's dead to the world. I think you're going to have a chance to do that voodoo you do-do so well. Now, I've gotten you off twice, you owe me."

"Okay, then let me pay you back."

He got up and went to the bathroom, grabbing some baby oil. Pulling Maggie to the edge of the bed, he let her legs hanging over at the knees. House stood between her legs looking down at her bare breasts, nipples red and firm. He squirted baby oil on both thighs. Taking both index fingers, he drew circles in the oil and then up to her pubic hair. He flattened his hands and rubbed his hands through the hair then up her abdomen. He kneeled between her legs on the floor and took his lips up her thighs to the lips of her vagina. Spreading her folds, he started sucking her clit. Maggie put her hands on the back of his head, pushing him slightly into her clitoris for added pressure. House pulled up and looked at her, stopping the wonderful sensations going through her body.

"You can't do that."

He grinned, "I think I just did." House lay down next to Maggie and played with her breasts, rubbing them with oil, fondling them. Maggie rubbed House too, touching his chest, his hips, his thighs. She rubbed his penis, fondled his balls. They did nothing but fondle each other for half an hour. Maggie was relaxed and feeling calm.

"Greg, I could go to sleep if you keep doing this."

"You mean, I could play with your body and you'd just sleep through it?"

"I'm a very tired mommy."

"With a little pooch."

Maggie was hurt but his reference to her baby fat. She was still ten pounds over her normal weight. House saw her pouting and chuckled, "Mags, I love it. Stop pouting. You look Rubenesque. Round like a woman should. House rolled over to Maggie's night stand and opened the bottom door. Fumbling around the far back, House found what he was looking for, Maggie's small vibrator.

"Oh My God! How did you know about that?"

"Oh baby, I enjoyed watching you get off when you were young. I knew you'd have something somewhere. Why, have you been using it?"

"None of your business."

House started the vibrator and put it between Maggie's leg, opening her lips with his fingers and placing it on her clit. He watched her as she responded to the vibrator humming between her legs. She looked up and her eyes met his. Maggie's breath was ragged, she pulled House down to her breast. He took it in his mouth and began to suck, stopping when he could taste the milk. He pulled up, saw her body flushing and knew she was close.

"Maggie, I'm going to fuck you. " He stood up between her legs, continued to apply pressure with the vibrator and then pulled her butt to the edge of the bed. Bending down a little, House pulled her legs up over his shoulder and guided himself to the entrance. He rubbed her clit with the head of his throbbing erection. He alternated between rubbing her with his penis and the vibrator. When Maggie started taking in short breaths and her thighs went rigid, House stabbed into her and started thrusting. Maggie grabbed the vibrator and began playing with is against her clit.

"Oh damn…Greg, harder, oh God. Yes, harder."

House slammed into her as hard as he could, their skin slapping together as he did. Maggie started shaking from the orgasm, her muscles clamping down on House as he penetrated forcefully. He felt the climax coming and bent slightly as his whole body reacted to the orgasm surging through both of them. They were both moaning and screaming from the pleasure that ripped through their bodies. When it was done, House backed up, pulling out of Maggie, the sweat dripping off of him.

"Oh Christ, Bear is crying. We must have woken him up." Maggie jumped up and ran to the bassinette where she found Bear screaming his head off. Neither Maggie nor House had heard him start to cry. Maggie started laughing as Bear calmed down in her arms. "Sorry sweetie, but we were preoccupied with our own carnal pleasures!"

House, who had climbed up on the bed, patted for Maggie to bring him over. He rubbed his nose and closed one eye, "Do you think we've scared him with all our screaming, now he's scarred for life?"

"Let's wait to see how he turns out. If he turns out to be a tormented soul, we can claim it was our loud lovemaking."

"Or, if he has a lot of women, we can claim it was our loud lovemaking."

Maggie put the crying baby down next to House who proceeded to put his hand flat on Bear's chest and rub it softly. Bear, dressed in a little t-shirt and diaper began to quiet almost immediately. The smile on House's face said everything; he was in love with his baby boy.

House looked up, "Can we keep him? Or do we have to give him back when his lease is up?"

"Depends on how many people are waiting for a redheaded, blue-eyed baby boy with a quick smile and even quicker temper."

House leaned down and kissed Bear's tummy, "He doesn't have a quick temper, he's just has colic. It will go away when he's 16…have patience."

She yawned and climbed in bed with them, looking at House nurturing his son. Bear loved it when House rubbed his chest. "That rubbing thing doesn't seem to work as well for me. If I want Bear to be soothed, either I stick a breast in his mouth or rock him to music."

House wiggled his eyebrows, "See, despite the red hair, he does take after me."

"Ah, except put a breast in _your _mouth and you get excited, not calmer."

The phone rang, Maggie, still smiling, rolled over and picked up the phone.

"Hi Theresa!"

House watched Maggie's face change from easy-going to dark, somber, worried. She bolted upright, "Crap… Yeah… Yeah… Right… Don't do anything, I'll be there. Sure… So, two maybe three hours? Okay. Bye."

"Mags, what?"

She jumped up, running into her closet. Scrounging around, she pulled a box out and opened it at the end of the bed. Pulling out the pieces of her handgun, House sat up.

"_Jesus Christ Maggie! What the hell is going on?"_

She looked up, no longer afraid, running on autopilot. "Jack's been shot, he's in intensive care. Probably the Italians…no, not probably. It _was_ the Italians. He's in surgery, should be out in two to three hours." Maggie looked up, "Honey, get Bear ready to go; I've got to clean my gun."

"Get Bear ready to go, _where_? _It's ten pm!_"

But Maggie had run out to the kitchen with her gun. House grabbed Bear and hobbled out.

"Will you hold on! What are you doing?"

She looked up at him as if he were stupid, "I'm cleaning my gun!"

"_For what?"_

She shook her head, "You don't get it do you? Who the hell do you think takes over the business when my brother is incapacitated? A board of directors?"

House shrugged his shoulders, "Theresa?"

Maggie started laughing, "Right, Betty Crocker running the business."

House shook his head, "Well, it's _not you!"_

Maggie stopped and with a coldness he had never seen before, "Greg, in less than fifteen minutes, two pretty burly Irish guys are going to knock at that door. They're going to scoop us all up and take us to Jack's house. _So get ready, damn it!"_

"Do you hear yourself? This sounds like a bad Al Pacino movie. I'm not getting our son ready to go to the mattresses!"

She put the gun together and cocked it, then set the safety latch, "They thought they had killed my brother. What they didn't know was that his "associate" had fallen on his body, taking most of the bullets. They know someone has to take over. They know it will be me. In the old days, you didn't take out the family of the people who did business, but I don't really know the rules anymore. "

"So you whip out your gun and sit by the door ready to take down whoever crosses our threshold?"

Maggie had enough. She stood and screamed, her voice loud, but calm, "_Look at this house! Look at this place…we don't even have a security system. You think I can protect us here? For God's sake Greg, my brother's house is a fortress being patrolled by half a dozen guys with automatic weapons! The only way I can protect you and Bear is to move you to his house!"_

It dawned on House what she was saying. He calmly looked at her, "You're telling me that you, me and our son could be on some hit list?"

"I'm telling you I don't know, but I wouldn't want to take the risk, would you?"

House stood still, "I'm not leaving."

She clenched her teeth, "Greg, you can't stay here." But she could see it was useless, he wasn't going to budge, "Well, have it your way. But, I'm taking Bear with me. I hope you don't mind if I make sure our son lives through this."

House wanted to say no, just to piss her off, but he loved his son too much, "Fine, Don Corleone. Is this where I kiss your ring?"

"No, but you can kiss my ass!" Maggie walked past him and into the bedroom to get packed and ready. The doorbell rang and House went in his boxers to answer it. He looked through the peep hole and snickered. Opening the door, he found the twins of one of the twins, the bouncers for Cavanaugh's.

The one closest to the door nodded, "Hi, we're here to pick you up?"

House stared at the two guys packing automatic weapons, "You two look just like your father."

They both nodded and said in unison, "We get that a lot."

"Come in, she's packing."

One came in, the other stood by the front door, watching, vigilant for any signs of trouble. The twin in the house started looking around.

"Have you guys heard anything, any noises?"

House shook his head. Maggie came out to the living room holding the baby.

"Colin, get the stroller, have Mac get in here and grab the bassinette and playpen." She looked around for things to take, then turned to her husband, her face tense. "Greg, come with us."

He laughed, "Or sleep with the fishes?"

"Not funny." She walked over and handed him her hand gun. "Take this. Do you know how to use it?"

"I'm the son of a Marine Corps Officer, I can shoot a gun."

She reached up and kissed him, "I love you more than you'll ever know. Please promise you'll go and stay with Jim. Just until I can evaluate the situation?" She waited, "Please? Honey?"

He grimaced and rolled his eyes, "Ah, hell. Yeah, I'll go bunk with Wilson."

Maggie smiled and hugged him, kissed him again and grabbed the baby carrier. She held Bear up for House to say goodbye. He kissed his son and made a quacking sound. Maggie took Bear and they walked out. The house was quiet for once. House thought about the day, how strange it had been. He sat down on the sofa and poured himself a drink, laying the gun on the coffee table. _From sex to guns. What a day!_ He had no intention of bunking with Wilson, not until Wilson called.

"House? I just got a phone call from a pretty whacked out Maggie begging me to pick you up and make you come and stay with me. Life or death is what she said. Are you okay?"

"Her brother's been in some gangland hit and she's afraid their coming for me."

Wilson had a hard time understanding, "For you specifically?"

"No, mostly for Maggie, we're just collateral damage."

"Okay, pack up, you're coming with me."

"Like hell!"

Wilson sighed, "Maggie said that if you didn't go on your own volition, four Irish guys were going to show up and escort you to Jack's house."

There was silence, "Damn it, I get the bed."

"I'll be over soon."

The dark sedan bearing Maggie and Bear in the back seat traveled at a fast pace down the road to Philadelphia. The Twins said nothing, Bear was asleep. The quiet gave Maggie time to think about the events, what needed to be done. She finally broke the silence.

"Colin, what started this?"

"Your cousin, Dennis O'Rourke, was in love with this Wop, turns out to be Donatto's niece. Dennis caught her at a bar with some Italian guy, they had words, Dennis shot the guy. Turns out he was the son of one of Donatto's Lieutenants."

Maggie looked outside and then back towards the front seat, "So what does this have to do with Jack?"

"Jack protected Dennis, refused to hand him over to Donatto. So things escalated, trucks got hijacked from both sides, people started dying. Jack got hit."

Maggie broke out into a sweat. It was worse than she thought. She thought about little Dennis. He wasn't her first cousin, but the son of her cousin, Bernie. Maggie realized that Jack had made a huge miscalculation, based on his love for his cousin. He shouldn't have protected Dennis. It didn't mean that he had to give him up to the Mob, he just shouldn't have protected him. Dennis shot an unarmed man and, under the code, he should have experienced the consequences of his actions. By protecting Dennis, the blame transferred to Jack.

Maggie looked up and saw the rock and iron gate to Jack's mansion. It sat on four acres of lawn, garden, and beautiful woods with running creeks. The three story house was massive with over 7,500 square feet. The guest house had two bedrooms. The garage could house 5 vehicles. There was a corral for horses and several outbuildings. The place was gorgeous, but a little too much for Maggie. Men were stationed near the gate as if they were having a picnic. They drove through and everyone solemnly nodded at Maggie. She nodded back. Theresa came running out to the car, her eyes swollen and red, hair a little out of place for her.

Maggie handed Bear, who was still asleep in his carrier, to her, "I thought you'd be at the hospital?"

"I'm going back in a few minutes. I had to come home and get cleaned up." They embraced.

Maggie stroked Theresa's hair as she took the carrier from her, "I'm so sorry sweetie, what have the doctors said?"

"He lost a lot of blood and his spleen, it hit his liver too. They removed a portion of his liver…" Theresa broke down.

"Oh honey, livers re-grow. Let's just get through this. I'm here now, I'll take over, you just go spend time with Jack and tell him I'll be down to see him in a few hours. Usual room?"

"Yeah you and Bear will be up there. Oh Maggie, Bear is so beautiful. His eyes are blue-blue, like Greg's and that hair…it's turning auburn, isn't it?"

"I hadn't thought about it…yeah it is getting darker." Maggie wanted to get inside, the air was stifling hot and muggy.

Theresa turned to the twins, "Well, Colin, can you drop me off at the hospital?"

Colin looked to Maggie. She nodded and then turned back to Theresa, "Bye Theresa, I'll see you later."


	55. Chapter 27 Part III

**Maggie's Story**

**Chapter 27 Part II**

**Just When I Thought I Was Out**

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Maggie headed to the large columned portico that house the gigantic front doors with stain glass windows and went inside. The air conditioning felt good. She took a fussy Bear upstairs and sat down on the easy chair in the guest room. She undid her blouse and let Bear latch on. After changing his diaper, she put him down again. Maggie crawled on top of the bed and went to sleep.

When she woke, Maggie went downstairs and made herself a bowl of cereal. She sat at the table and ate with several of the guys. They asked her about Africa and South America and about her marriage to House. Maggie picked up Bear and looked around the front and back yard at all the white, Irish guys, milling around in the sun and heat. She walked over to the makeshift picnic area. The guys gathered around as if she was going to give them orders. "Martin, run down to the drug store, buy two of the biggest tubes of sunblock SPF 30 or more. I want all of you Micks to lather up." She started to go back in, but turned back and wagged a finger at them, "And you guys go in, find some baseball caps and wear them. I can't have you guys out of action because of a crappy sunburn."

"Yes, Maggie." They said in unison.

"Now someone take me to see my brother."

Maggie went to the hospital and discovered that she and Theresa were both named as attorneys in fact for her brother, meaning they could both make decisions about Jack's health care. She looked at Jack's chart and saw that he was still unconscious, had developed an infection and was running a fever. She went back to his room and found two men in suits waiting for her.

"Dr. Malone?"

Maggie started chuckling, "Ah, the FBI. Gentlemen, what can I do for you?"

"Well, we're investigating your brother's unfortunate run in with a bullet. Care to illuminate what's going on, why Donatto put a hit out on your brother?"

Her mouth dropped open in mock surprise, "Really? Donatto? A hit?"

They smirked and looked down at their black patent leather shoes, "Yeah, a hit. We have two dead Italians, two dead Irish and one wounded Irish boss. You want to help us solve the problem or be a part of it?"

"In case you hadn't heard, I was in Princeton having sex with my husband when this occurred."

"We've already verified that you were not in Philadelphia when it happened. But that doesn't mean that you don't know something." He paused and looked over at Theresa who was standing by Jack's bed, "Did it have anything to do with your cousin Dennis being wanted for questioning in the shooting of Donatto's nephew?"

"I haven't had a chance to talk to my brother. I'm not sure…"

"Not sure or you won't tell us?" He looked frustrated, "Your son, do you want him involved in some gangland war?"

Maggie bared her teeth, _"Leave my son out of this." _She looked down, "You know, get out. Just get out. I have nothing more to say."

They handed her a card, "If you do hear something, you know the drill."

Maggie watched as they left. She turned and went to her brother's bedside. He was hooked up to several IV's and oxygen. Maggie didn't like the fever, worried he might have sepsis. He wasn't going to be coming around soon, which meant Maggie had to step into her brother's shoes and bring an end to the violence which just last night had resulted in the Irish attacking an Italian truck, stealing the whiskey off the back of it and beating up the two low level Italian goodfellows driving it. They would have been killed, but it just so happened that a police car, not driven by Irish cops, stumbled on the beating. The two Micks got away, but just barely.

Maggie knew there was nothing she could do at the hospital, "Theresa, I have to get back, take care of business. If there's a change in his status, let me know, okay?"

"Sure." Theresa smiled as Maggie picked up her purse and to leave, "Maggie, thanks for coming. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Patting Theresa's back, Maggie whispered, "No problem Theresa, we're family."

"What about Greg?" Theresa asked as if his safety had just dawned on her.

"I had a voice mail, he's gone to stay with Jim."

Nodding, Theresa smiled, "That's good. I don't know how safe we are."

Maggie shrugged and looked down at Jack, "I know. I wish Jack had thought this through before…" Maggie wasn't even sure if Theresa knew what was behind the hit. She decided not to upset Theresa with her opinion. She stopped, leaned over and kissed Theresa on the cheek, "I better go."

Colin brought the black sedan around to pick up Maggie. Mac got out and opened the door for her. As they drove out of the parking lot, they picked up an FBI tail. Colin nodded at the guys behind them and Maggie laughed.

"Yeah, they're really clandestine!"

Colin drove her back to Jack's house. Maggie sat in the back seat while the twins remained quiet in the front.

"Colin, I need to see Dennis and his Dad. Is there a way you can arrange a meeting with Louis Donatto?

Colin shook his head and gave Maggie a funny look in the mirror.

"Well? Can you find me someone who can set up a meeting with Louis Donatto?"

"Maggie, you don't want to meet Louis Donatto."

Maggie sighed, "Colin, I know what I need to do. You don't have to worry about me."

Colin tilted his head, "Maggie, everyone knows that you know what's best for the business. You're Jack's sister and well, we all think you're tougher than him anyway. But, that don't take back the fact that, you don't want to meet Louis Donatto."

"And, pray tell, why do I not want to meet him?"

Colin wasn't sure about the 'pray tell' part, but he looked at Maggie in the rear view mirror as his brother turned around to face her too, "Because Louis Donatto died three years ago."

Maggie's breath caught in her throat as she digested this, "How?"

Colin shrugged, letting Maggie know he didn't have the details, "Some brain thing…blood clot."

Maggie started going through the line of succession in the Donatto family. There were only two brothers, Caesar, who was born with cerebal palsy and…Vito? "Is Vito the Don now?"

The brothers nodded.

A chill ran down her back, "But, he's a doctor, right?"

"Not anymore. He took over when his brother died. Best thing that happened to the Wops. They're business is doing much better since he took over."

Maggie needed time to decide what she should do. They drove through the streets in silence again, reaching Jack's home far out in the suburbs a few minutes later. She went inside to find Mary feeding a greedy Bear his very first bottle. Bear seemed content enough.

"I'll take over Mary." Maggie took Bear and sat in the easy chair, raised her blouse and offered him a breast swollen with milk. Bear quickly responded and sucked happily while Maggie thought. Colin came in and, at first, looked away. But Maggie's breast was hidden behind a towel and so Maggie told him to join her. She said matter of factly, "I want to meet with Vito. Make the arrangements."

Colin shifted in the chair, "Dennis should be arriving in a couple of hours. He's been in the Poconos."

"Great," she said.

"Maggie, why are you doing this? I mean you have a baby…why not just wait until Jack gets out of the hospital?"

"Because the Italians are going to strike back soon because of last night's escapade. I want you to bring in Joe, Mack and Michael. And put out the word that no one is to take any action against the Italians without clearing it with me."

Colin got up and left, leaving Maggie to have a moment with her son. Bear looked up at her with his blue eyes, reminding her to call House. She pulled out her cell from her pocket and dialed the hospital.

"House," he said with a gruff voice.

"Hi honey, how ya doin'?"

There was a deep sigh, "How the hell do you think I'm doing? I'm sitting here, exhausted from sleeping on Wilson's sofa bed and worrying about my wife and son who are apparently under siege. I've decided that you need to come home. The FBI were here and they think that you know more than what you're saying. They told me that they can protect you and Bear if you cooperate."

Maggie tried not to laugh; House seemed to think he had it all figured out. "Honey, it doesn't work like that. I have an idea of what needs to be done around here. Hey, did you know that Vito is now the head of the Donnato family? His brother died three years ago."

"I don't give a damn if Marlon Brando took over. Get your ass and my son back here."

She smiled to herself, "No, you come and get us." Maggie knew House wouldn't drive up there and enter a compound of Irish guys, all ready to do her bidding. She heard him curse. "I just wanted to let you know that we were safe and that I love you."

There was a deep pause, "Maggie? Don't be a hero. I don't want you standing outside your brother's hospital with a pretend gun trying to keep the Italians from killing him."

"Oh, but that's one of my favorite scenes!"

"_Mags!"_ he growled.

"I won't. I love you honey. Bye."

"Bye."

She hung up and realized that he hadn't said, 'I love you' in return. He was punishing her in the only way he knew how, withdrawing his affection. It must have been what was done to him as a kid. She was surprised at how well it was working. She desperately needed to hear it from him. She called him back.

"Greg House."

"Okay, I know you're mad at me. But, what if something did happen to me and you didn't tell me you love me? Don't you think you'll feel like crap?"

"Which is precisely why you should come home. If you come home, I promise to tell you what you want to hear."

"I can't come home. Not yet. Jack's still unconscious and he's lost a lot of blood. He's going to have to stay in the hospital for at least a week. In the meantime, all hell is breaking loose."

"Like what?"

Maggie knew that the Feds probably had a tap on the phones by now. "Oh, Luke got drunk and Mary's been crying. Things like that."

"What?"

"Oh, I can't say much, there are people around. Anyway, it wouldn't hurt if you said that you loved me before I hang up."

"How genuine is affection if you have to drag it out of someone?"

"Honey, dragging it out of you has been the story of our relationship. Okay, forgedd about it. I love you. Bye." She hung up, held her arm out and took a photo of her holding Bear to her breast. She sent it with a text message, "Just in case something happens, I just wanted you to know that I know you love me."

Maggie was changing Bear's diaper when Colin came back in, hands in his pocket, "Maggie, Vito says he'll come down to Cavanaugh's to meet with you tonight at 7:00 pm."

Maggie was taken back, "He's going to come to my territory?" It didn't make sense to her that he would come deep into the Irish neighborhood. He either had a lot of respect for her ability to control the Irish lads or he was an idiot. She was worried.

"Vito says he knows you and he's willing to meet on your turf."

"I don't know, this doesn't feel good. But, at least I know I'll be protected." Maggie went down to the hospital to take Theresa some food, magazines and a change of clothes. Mary and Luke showed up a few minutes later. Maggie had to get back to Bear, now in the hands of Meggie, who had two kids of her own to look after.

On the way home, Maggie had Colin pull into the shopping mall. She ran into BCBG and within minutes made four purchases, two dresses, pantyhose and shoes. When they went back to the car, Colin was chuckling.

Maggie threw the purchases in the back seat, "What are you laughing at?"

"I've _never_ seen a woman shop that fast. I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone."

She smiled, "I knew what I wanted. I need something special for tonight."

He furred his brow, giving Maggie a look of confusion, "To meet with Vito?"

"Yeah, I can't look like the dumpy Hausfrau can I?"

Colin clearly didn't understand, Maggie was like an Aunt to him. She'd known him since he was born and to Colin, Maggie was always just plain Maggie. He didn't see her in any other terms except the matriarchal leader of the K & A gang.

Maggie saw a truck and several cars in the drive as they pulled in; realizing that Dennis and his father must be inside. When she walked in she could hear Bear howling.

Maggie took him from Meggie who shook her head, "He's been colicky for the last twenty minutes. Nothing seems to soothe him."

"His Dad knows how to soothe him the best. He does this thing with his hand on his chest and tummy. I just put a binky in and pray." They both laughed. Maggie leaned forward, "Meggie, who all is here?"

"Dennis and Peter, Joe, Mack and Michael. They're all in there." She nodded to the door leading to Jack's "Play Room."

Maggie spent a few minutes feeding the always hungry Bear. He calmed down, but when she tried to put Bear down, he started fussing again. So Maggie carried her baby into the lion's den.

The men were playing pool and watching television. Everyone stopped to look at her. The guys on the couch stood up as they waited for Maggie to sit down. She eased herself into the chair with her now sleeping baby. The guys put their cues down and either sat or stood near the seating area.

"Hi Dennis, Mac, Joe, Peter and—"Maggie smiled broadly at Michael, "Mikey!" Waving him over to her side.

Michael came over and gave her a kiss on the cheek and then looked down at the baby, "He's got his Dad's eyes and the Malone hair!"

"I'm glad you all came. Dennis, I need you to tell me about the night you had the altercation with the Donattos."

Dennis was known as the family hothead and there had been many conversations about the inevitable day he would get into big trouble. His father, Peter, sat cautiously nearby, ready to intervene on his son's behalf.

"I'd been dating Loretta a couple of months. She made me think we were just dating each other. I went out on Charlie's bachelor party at the Hawk Club. I walk in, she's there with some guy. I tried to get her to leave with me. He got in my face…hit me…I pulled my gun and shot."

"Why were you carrying a gun to a bachelor's party?" Several of the guys cocked an eyebrow at Maggie. She chuckled, "I see, dumb question, you all carry guns when you go out?" They nodded, "Well, when did it get this bad that you have to carry guns 24/7?"

No one said anything. Maggie took in a deep breath and looked around. "Dennis, you and your Dad go out to the family room, watch some TV, get something to eat. I need to talk to these guys."

Dennis immediately jumped up and walked towards the door. His father hesitated, realizing better than his son, that the young man's fate was going to be dealt with after they left. He looked at Maggie as he rose to his feet.

Maggie grimaced, "Pete, is there something you wanted to say?"

His face contorted as he looked over at his son and then back to Maggie, "Dennis, go ahead, I'll catch up."

Dennis left.

"Maggie, he's a good kid. Yeah, he's got a hot head, but he's been good to your brother. He's done all of the little jobs your brother has asked him to do. He's been loyal."

Maggie smiled, "Yes, I know. My brother wouldn't have done what he did unless Dennis had been loyal and he loved him like his own. But that decision killed two guys and landed him in the hospital with no spleen and part of his liver decimated. Do you think it was the right decision?"

Peter's shoulders slumped, he pleaded, "Mags, he's my son. Of course I do. Wait until yours is older Maggie."

"I didn't expect you to say anything different; I'd do the same for my son. Now Pete, could you excuse us? We need to talk."

Maggie turned to the others as Pete left the room. "Okay, guys, I need to hear what you have to say."

Mac burst out, "Dennis is a good kid, he's our go to guy when we need certain things done. We need guys like that…he's your cousin for Chris' sake. Jack would have done it for anyone in the family, you know that Mags."

Michael shook his head, "Maggie, the kid went out with a _Donatto_. How was he expecting it to end? He carried a gun into a nightclub and used it on a guy who didn't have one. He wasn't there on business. This wasn't done as part of a job. Jack blew it. He shouldn't have protected the boy."

Maggie turned to Joe, "Well Joe, you're Jack's closest thing to a right hand man. What was he thinking?"

Joe scowled, clearly not happy with Jack's decision, "I told him not to hide the kid, but he didn't listen. He just kept saying that Pete and Dennis were his cousins, family. He had to protect family. If this had been a job gone bad I'd understand, but Michael's right, this wasn't even business. Jack shouldn't have protected him."

Maggie nodded.

Michael watched Maggie think and had to admit, she reminded him of Al Pacino, all broody and contemplative. "Mags, what are you going to do?"

"I haven't quite decided, but I wanted to know how you all felt. You're very important to my family, we value your thoughts. I'd like each of you to stick around; I'd like to have a little one on one before you leave."

Maggie spent the afternoon talking to everyone on an individual basis, including Dennis. By the end of the day she knew what she had to do, but it depressed her. Meggie took care of Bear while his mother went upstairs to dress for her meeting. Maggie came downstairs in a jersey tie dress that clung to her curves. It was low cut enough that you could see cleavage. The guys all looked at each other.

Michael laughed, "Mags, you look hotter than you did when you were in your twenties. You've got the body of a woman."

"Michael!" Meggie yelled at him, "You don't go tellin' Maggie how hot she is just before a meeting with the Donnatos."

Maggie laughed, "No, actually, that's just what I needed to know. Vito's going to remember me as the young med school student with the freckles. I want him to realize that I've grown up."

"Oh, there's no mistaken that you're a woman Mags." Joe said with a smile. Joe was in his late fifties and known to be a real ladies man. He reminded women in the neighborhood of Paul Newman.

Maggie kissed Bear and then walked with Colin and Daniel out to the car. As they rode over to the bar, Colin kept looking at her in the mirror. He seemed apprehensive. Maggie spent her time looking at the neighborhood, she was always amazed at how much it had changed and yet, in many ways, stayed the same. When they arrived at Cavenaugh's there were three or four guys at the bar drinking and a table of guys watching the Phillies on TV. Cavenaugh's was still popular and, as part of her share, Jack gave Maggie the income off of the bar for Bear's college fund. Maggie waited at the bar; drinking a diet coke, when the door opened and two large Italians came in followed by the very handsome Vito Donatto.

Vito Donatto was maybe 5'10 or 5'11'' with just enough gray in his hair to let you know he wasn't a young man. But, he still had those soft brown eyes rimmed with deep black eyelashes. The best she could describe him is that he almost looked like Louis Jordan when he was his age, except a little more Italian. His features weren't quite as sharp as the actors. He was in an Armani suit with a European cut that let Maggie know that he worked out and took pride in keeping himself trim and fit. His shoes were Italian with a gorgous sheen to them. Maggie was impressed, the man knew how to dress well.

Maggie got off the stool and walked over, shaking Vito's hand, "Let's go in the back. Can we leave everyone else out here?"

Vito nodded and waved the guys away. They walked into the back towards the office. Vito watched Maggie's nice, round ass as she walked in front of him. When they sat down, Maggie offered Vito an Irish whiskey.

"Maggie, you've certainly grown up. I heard you're a new mother?"

"Yes, he's two months old. Mathuin."

"Gaelic?"

Maggie nodded and pulled a photo from the credenza showing House, Maggie and the very newborn Mathuin in Maggie's arms. She handed it to Vito.

"Oh, that's right. I forgot that you married House. What in the world would possess you to do that? He's not exactly the easiest person to deal with."

"I tend to do best under pressure."

He chuckled at the double entendre, "Well Maggie, now what? Your brother's been hiding that cacaseno. He should have given him to us; we might have just knocked him around. Now, we want him and he won't be coming back home."

"But this happened a month ago. Why take Jack out?"

"When we hit his construction business as pay back for what he did, he hit back, hard. He rubbed what he was doing in our face. I'm not a vindictive person, but members of my family tend to be. I have to retain their respect. So Maggie, we went after your brother to teach your family a lesson." He paused, "When Jack is dead, because we will get him; do you step into his shoes?"

"Let's not go there, you're not killing Jack."

"Maggie, don't be naïve, we have to finish what we started. You know, just because you're a woman, don't expect us to go soft."

"I thought women and children were exempt from retribution?"

He laughed, "Maggie that was old school. Too many women run part of our businesses now. But we tend to leave the spouse and kids alone. House and your son are civilians, they'll be okay, I promise."

"I'm here to make you a deal Vito. I'll give you Dennis and I'll order a halt on the attacks on your trucks. But you have to promise to call off the hit on my brother."

Vito was a smart businessman, he was hoping for a way out. Gang wars were a thing of the past, something to be avoided at all costs. But, still, he had to keep the threat real, to see what Maggie would come up with. He smiled seductively, "Maggie, how can you promise these things for Jack? You're a doctor and a parent!"

"And so are you. But, here we are, doing business. You don't have to worry, the guys will honor my decision."

Maggie got out of her chair and came around to the front of the desk, leaning her well-defined curves against the oak top. Vito could appreciate the move, it was clearly meant to be seductive and it was working. Maggie wasn't a beautiful woman like a Grace Kelly, but she was hot, pretty and the power she wielded made her incredibly enticing.

Vito thought a minute, eyeing her; he shrugged his shoulders and threw up his hands, "These hits on our transportation are starting to hurt. Alright, when do we do the exchange?"

"Tomorrow evening, 6:00 pm, I'll come to your shop."

Vito stared intently, "Philadelphia Waste Management at 6:00 pm?"

Maggie nodded.

As he was getting up, Vito took a good look at Maggie's cleavage. "Maggie, if you ever get tired of House's antics, give me a call."

Maggie narrowed her eyes, "You're married Vito."

"So are you, to an ass."

"Ah, but I love that ass."

Vito snickered as they went out front where his entourage had been drinking beer. Vito nodded, they all got up, sneered at the Irish and then left. Maggie went to the bar, "Give me a Bushmills."

"Sure Mags, but what about the baby?" He nodded at her breasts.

She laughed and slammed back the shot glass Mac handed to her, "Ah, my Grandmother used to give me a little whiskey in my milk to help me sleep. He'll be okay."

Mac frowned, "You're going to give them Dennis aren't you?"

"Do I have a choice? I either give them someone who went out on his own and bent the rules or they take out my brother."

Mac took a sharp breath, "Mags, I'm glad it's you and not me."

"I bet you do."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When they got back to the house, Maggie made several calls and then had Colin drive her to a diner. She told Colin to come back in an hour. Maggie went inside and met with her uncle, Cornelius, who handed her a package. They talked for a few minutes and then Maggie got up, kissed her uncle's cheek and left.

When he picked her up at the diner, Colin wondered what was in the package. Colin drove her home through the gates where numerous guys and now some women were sitting around the lawn, pool and gate. Even though it was night, everyone had on ball caps and there were several bottles of sunscreen on the picnic table. Maggie fed Bear, but he was still teary, not calming as he usually did at her breast. Maggie thought that he probably missed his Dad and home. She bounced him a little, watching the suckling boy suck and pout at the same time. She admired his long face, blue eyes and auburn hair. He had calmed down and was ready to play. Bear was starting to look like a human, smiling and curious, his eyes always searching hers when he suckled. They were House's curious, intelligent, eyes, but he had Maggie's nose. She played with him for almost half an hour before giving him the other breast. She sang him an Irish lullaby as he nursed. His lips fell away from her nipple as his eyes began to close. She chuckled as her baby fell asleep.

The next morning, Maggie called down to the bar and had Mac bring Dennis to her. Dennis, a pink skinned, freckled-faced, twenty-five year old with reddish-brown hair, walked in with his shoulders hunched and his eyes downcast. Maggie was sitting in her levis and t-shirt at the breakfast counter.

"Dennis, the Donattos want an apology from you and they want you to pay for the gravestone. We're going over, just me and you, to South Philly and you're going to apologize to the boy's family. You better bring as much money as you can scrape up. Do you understand me?"

Dennis nodded, his face somber. But, he knew. "Yeah Maggie, I understand. Can I go now? I need to say goodbye to my family."

Maggie looked at the young man. He wasn't frightened; he was resigned to his fate. Maggie admired his calmness and resolve. She stood up and hugged him, "I'm sorry Dennis."

"It's okay Mags. I fucked up."

Maggie met with several people during the day and finalized the arrangements for the evening. She tried to call House, but there was no response. It meant he probably had a patient.

Maggie put on the dress she had bought, it was rouched in at the waist and made her look sexy, without being too revealing. During the day she had pumped out several bottles of breast milk to freeze. She fed Bear just before she put on the final touches of eye shadow and perfume.

Theresa was home on a break, "Jack's awake some of the time. He wants you to come in and see him tomorrow."

Maggie nodded, "Sure. How is he?"

"Actually, he's ornery, barking orders to all the nurses and me. But mostly he's anxious to see you, find out what's going on. No one who goes in to see him seems to know anything."

Maggie laughed, "I've been playing my cards close to the chest…this big, milky chest that is."

Theresa smiled, "Maggie, I heard a rumor that you're going to South Philly tonight.© I don't think that's wise. Since this started, Jack didn't go south of the bridge."

Maggie put a hand on her arm, "I don't really want to go, but someone has to stop the madness and I guess it's me. I can't let them take Jack, can I?"

She shook her head, "Be careful. Jack doesn't trust Vito, he says he doesn't play by the rules."

Maggie nodded, "Tell Jack I'll be in tomorrow. Let Meggie know that there's four bottle frozen, that should get him through until tomorrow morning."

"Okay."

Dennis pulled up in Jack's sedan. Maggie got into the passenger side, softly patted Dennis on the shoulder and motioned for him to start the car.

As they were driving, Maggie could see a thin bead of sweat on Dennis' upper lip, "Maggie, tell Jack I never wanted him hurt, okay? I really feel bad about that. He's always been good to me."

Maggie put a finger to her mouth and pointed to the roof, indicating that the car might be bugged. Dennis nodded, understanding.

She said out loud, "The FBI has quite an interest in all of this."

"I don't know why. It was just too guys who got into an argument over a woman."

They drove down through South Philly and the Italian neighborhoods to a semi-industrial area and over to the waste management office. Maggie had Dennis parked two blocks around the corner from the warehouse. She turned to Dennis and handed him the package. There was a paper on the top of the package which he read:

"_Shut up and do not say anything. I'm going to say some things for the bug in the car, but when I'm done and leave the car, drive over to the Geno's Steaks. You'll find a dark blue 2005 Volvo. The key to it is on the key ring to this car. Get in the car, drive towards New York. Stop and read the package just before you get to the city. You'll find everything you need to leave the country. There's a ticket to Spain and a passport with your new identity. There are more instructions in the package. Use the ticket, get out of here."_

Maggie continued to play the part, "Look, I'm going in first to soften them up, you follow in five minutes. When we get in there we won't have any guns or any protection, so don't say anything unless I tell you to say something, do you understand?"

"Yeah."

Maggie got out of the car and Dennis leaned over to the passenger side to look out the window. They looked at each other, Maggie smiled sadly and waved at him. He mouthed, "Thank you" so that the FBI wouldn't hear him. The car lurched out of the parking space and around the block the way they came. Maggie started walking towards the Waste Management Company. She walked slowly, until she finally came into view of two men in the window across the street from where she was headed. Maggie was no fool, the men in the window were Feds who constantly watched the comings and goings of the Donattos. They would see that Dennis wasn't with her, but they wouldn't really understand why at first. By the time it dawned on them that Dennis wasn't around, that he'd done a runner, he'd have a good head start. Maggie walked into the concrete building.

It was an old, but clean lobby with plastic chairs and gray flecked linoleum tiles. "I'm here to see Vito."

The thirtyish man with beautiful brown eyes nodded for her to sit on one of the chairs, "Just a minute." He disappeared into an office.Five minutes later he came out and growled, "You can go in."

Maggie took a deep breath and realized she hadn't talked to House since the tiff on the phone. She felt a little sick to her stomach, realizing that if this didn't go her way, the last thing they did was argue over her wanting to hear him say 'I love you.' He wouldn't acknowledge it, but it would eat him alive if she died and he hadn't said it to her. Maggie thought about excusing herself to call him, but it was too late. She could see the four Italians in the room standing around Vito, who was sitting. The four men were staring at her.

Vito was obviously pissed at Maggie. He didn't try to hide it. "_Did you forget something_?"

"The Feds arrested Dennis around the corner from here. What was I supposed to do? Tell the FBI that you needed your pound of flesh? I was lucky they didn't take me in with him. What can I do to make it up to you?"

Vito shook his head, "You think I believe you? I think Maggie Malone doesn't have the stones to hand over her cousin. She thinks she can talk her way out of anything." He looked around at all the waiting faces. Maggie could tell that Vito didn't like what was going on, he was clearly looking for an out, but there wasn't any. He shook his head and took a deep breath, "No, I'm sorry Maggie, I can't take your word. I think you let him go." He motioned to the men around him, "You see these men? They expect me to make things right. So, Maggie, I'm afraid you put me in a very awkward position. I'm afraid if you're going to let your cousin live, then you have to forfeit your life for his." Vito looked down, closed his eyes briefly and then waved at the two guys on either side of Maggie. They grabbed her upper arm and started to lead her out.

Maggie was alarmed, she had anticipated that this could happen, but thought it was only a remote possibility. Her adrenalin spiked, "Vito, you know that this will bring down a war of blood. My brother, Fishtown, Port Richmond, Darby, Colwyn, they'll explode if they find out that you killed me, a woman, a new mother."

"Maggie, that's precisely why it has to be you. It sends a message to the entire city that we're not playing." He shook his head sadly, "Sorry Maggie."

**Only two more posts and the story is over. I really hope that you've enjoyed it! Thank you for reading. I know it's been a long story, but Maggie has been with me for a long time through many of my other stories. **


	56. Chapter 28 Last Call

**Maggie's Story**

**Chapter 28**

**Last Call**

They hogtied me, my shoulders and arms tied behind to my feet and legs. The tall, thin, but substantial guy with light brown hair threw me into the trunk like a duffel bag. I'm not that heavy so it wasn't hard. Because I was hogtied, I couldn't kick out a taillight or kick anything for that matter, to bring attention to myself. It's funny what goes through your mind when you know that things aren't going your way and that the consequences might be more than you bargained for. I only had one regret, that my little baby son, my poor Bear would grow up not knowing his mother. Greg wasn't going to be very good at raising him alone. But, Theresa and Jack would be there. They'd probably take Bear in whenever Greg needed a break. Bear would be okay. I wondered how Greg would take my death. He'd be so pissed. Probably more pissed than sad, because that would be his way of coping. Once again I was praying that Greg would be okay, Bear too.

These thoughts flittered around while I also planned my next move. I thought about ways to overpower the two brutes that had me in their possession. I had no gun, no knife, no baseball bat, nothing to give me an advantage and I was hogtied. I wasn't exactly the strongest person on earth so the only chance I really had was when we stopped to immediately check out my surroundings and try to use them to my advantage.

The car turned and traveled down gravel and then a rocky, dirt road, with ruts and lots of bumps. We stopped and I could hear them talking inside. The doors slammed and the trunk opened. The June evening was still light enough for me to see my surroundings. They pulled me out by the ropes and threw me on the ground, dirt and grass filling my mouth. We were in the middle of the woods, the fireflies lighting up in the grass, the crickets making their noise as the sun went down. I looked around, we were on flat, level ground, nothing for me to roll down or hide in or under. I saw nothing that I could use as a weapon, even if I could get untied.

The shorter one, the one that looked like a stereotypical mafia hood, bent down with a knife. I knew he wasn't going to kill me with a knife; the Mob would only take another gang leader out with a gun to the back of my head, so I wasn't worried that he was going to cut my throat. He cut the rope, my arms freeing up; my aching muscles relaxing.

They both pulled out their guns, the short mafiosa stepped behind me. The taller guy held out his hand, "Wait, let her make right with God." He looked almost contrite, "I mean, she's Catholic too; let her say the last act of contrition."

The voice behind me reluctantly said, "Yeah, okay."

The tall guy nodded to me, "Go ahead, but no drawn out monologues."

There was nothing I could do. They were positioned in a perfect angle to kill me if I went after one of them. I'm a fighter, but the best I could hope for was to stall, so I made the sign of the cross and began, out loud,

"Forgive me my sins, O Lord, forgive me my sins;  
the sins of my youth, the sins of my age, the sins of my soul,  
the sins of my body; my idle sins, my serious voluntary sins;  
the sins I know, the sins I do not know; the sins I have concealed  
for so long, and which are now hidden from my memory.  
I am truly sorry for every sin, mortal and venial,  
for all the sins of my childhood up to the present hour.  
I know my sins have wounded Thy Tender Heart,  
O My Savior, let me be freed from the bonds of evil through  
the most bitter Passion of My Redeemer.  
O My Jesus, forget and forgive what I have been.

Lord, please grant my husband patience with his son and love in his life,

Grant my son health and love in his life,

Grant my brother long years with his family

Grant everyone peace when they bury me.

Amen."

I looked up at the guy who had let me say my Act of Contrition, he was growing antsy as the woods grew darker around me. I looked around for the cavalry and, seeing none coming to my rescue, I nodded to him that I was ready. I continued to pray to myself for my husband and my son, my soul.

The man behind me said out loud, "Man, I've never killed a woman. A mother." He sounded nervous, upset at this.

The other guy cocked his gun to give the one behind me courage. I heard the gun behind me cock and his sad, Philly accent say, "I'm sorry lady, I hope God forgives me."

It was a millisecond, but it seemed to go by in slow motion. There was the sound of the bullet loading. I saw my son's perfect little face as he slept and then Greg's face, just after sex, when he's relaxed and happiest. I wanted so much to tell them both how much I loved them, how sorry I was for thinking I could make this all work. I felt the gun's barrel next to my head; I heard the loud pop of the primer igniting, I felt the concussion, all went black.

**Readers: Next Chapter is the Last! Again, I hope you have enjoyed this story!**


	57. Chapter 29

**Maggie's Story ©Brogan 2008**

**Chapter 29**

**House's Heart-Maggie's Soul **

"You can see the gun had been placed on the back of the head when it was fired, that's where we see the most damage. The front is mostly where she hit a rock falling forward."

House swallowed hard and looked down at the floor, trying to imagine what her thoughts were before the gun went off. Then he realized, her last act would be to ready herself for the Lord. Maggie would have tried to say a prayer, to ask God forgiveness.

Cradling Bear in his arm, he leaned down and kissed her cheek, "Damn it Mags, what were you thinking? What the hell were you thinking? You have a son, a husband and…oh, fuck."

The doctor nodded to House and left him to have some time with Maggie.

"Why don't you just tell me that you love me and can't wait to get me home?" Maggie reached up for Bear.

He narrowed his eyes, clinched his jaw, "I'm not so sure I want to take you home, or let you have your son."

Maggie puckered her lips, hoping to entice him to kiss her.

He glared.

Maggie smiled, holding her arms out for Bear, "Oh, honey, you know you love me. Now, be good and, if you're not going to kiss me, hand me Bear and get me something for this headache. It hurts like hell where it hit me." Feeling the bump on the back of her head she grimaced, "I never knew they packed a wad of paper into a blank."

Wilson shook his head, "I still don't know what happened."

Maggie took Bear after a reluctant House handed him over, "One of the guys that was supposed to kill me was an FBI undercover officer. He switched out the bullets for blanks in the other guy's gun. In order to make an attempted murder stick, they wanted my supposed killer to pull the trigger. But the blank was so close to my head, when the little wad of paper hit my head, it did with such force it caused a concussion. I passed out from the concussion and the sheer terror."

"Did you know he was FBI?" Wilson asked.

"Hell no. The impact of the wad of paper from the blank hitting the back of my head along with the emotional kick of thinking I was dead was too much. I passed out, face in the dirt and rocks. I even peed my pants. I have a huge bump on the back of my head."

I

House sat down grumbling, "People have been killed from blanks be shot that close. I say we sue."

"Honey, they saved my life, I'll deal with a concussion."

Theresa walked up, "What about Dennis?"

"Dennis? I don't know. I told him to join me inside, with Vito, in five minutes and he took off. The police asked me if I wanted to report the car stolen, but I said no. They know what happened and want to question him, possibly charge him with manslaughter, but I don't think they've found him."

Jack rolled into the room in his wheelchair, "Mags!" He lifted up and hugged her. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"Apparently, I should be asking that question of you. Protecting Dennis after what happened?"

Jack chortled, "Oh, this is the kettle calling the pot black! I heard what you did for Dennis."

Maggie put a finger up to her lips, "Shhhh. We don't know who's listening."

Jack shook his head, "It's alright, no one has a subpoena to bug this hospital room, I'd know, believe me. How much do I owe you?"

"11,500."

Jack nodded, "No problem."

"I gave him a ticket to Spain and 10,000."

"That part of your plan was well executed. We got a call from him yesterday. He's fine, decided to go up to Ireland to family. But, we'll bring him home as soon as I can get the DA to go easy. Vito's family has been decimated."

"Really?" Maggie put a towel over her shoulder and began to nurse her son.

"I guess the FBI had to pull the plug to save you, but it looks like they have enough to put at least half of them away."

"What does that mean for you?"

"John Solano is the new boss. He and I can work together. He already wants to do some deals."

Maggie was discharged a few hours later. The FBI indicated that they would be by to discuss with her the events of the last few days. Wilson drove Maggie's car back to Princeton while House packed his family into the new Prius Maggie had made him buy. They drove back to Princeton, getting in around four in the afternoon.

Bear went to sleep almost as soon as they got in. After changing into a nightgown, Maggie went into the kitchen, got out some ice and made an ice pack for the bump on her head. She sat down at the end of the couch. House was itching to get downstairs, but his desire to be with Maggie was even more overwhelming than his desire to retreat to his lair. He laid back on the sofa and put his feet in her lap.

Maggie knitted her brow and smirked, "You want me to take care of you? Massage your feet?"

"Yeah, woman, it's about time you took care of your husband."

Sitting with her hand up on the ice bag, Maggie looked down at the long feet and long toes. Her heart clutched up, realizing that she had her family back. She was here with the man she adored and all size twelve of his feet. She looked across at him, lying with his arms behind his head. He twisted his head and stared at her from the corner of his eyes.

Rolling his eyes he laughed, "You're admiring me again. When you do that you usually tear…" He threw his head back, "There you go, tearing up."

"Greg, for the last two decades I've loved you so much. When I thought I was going to die, the last vision in my head was of you, not Bear, although he was a close second, but of you and those blue eyes. I don't always say it, but I love you."

He grimaced, "Ah Christ, now I'm supposed to get all mushy and say it back."

Maggie laughed, "Nope, if you said it back, it'd be like nails against the blackboard." She put the ice bag down and started to rub his feet, beginning with his heel.

House watched her as she rubbed his feet, her eyes looking down at his toes, smiling sweetly. He was glad she was home; it felt whole again, the world was turning again. He reached down and pulled her towards him, into his arms. Hugging her, he nuzzled her hair, smelling the familiar smell of her Aveno shampoo.

Maggie said nothing as House squeezed her tightly and nuzzled her neck. This wasn't a prelude to sex, this was a need to connect, be close to her. This was House's way of saying, "I love you." Warm 

arms around her, she smiled to herself, wanting so much to keep this moment locked in her memory. They stayed like that for several minutes, but the grip on her was too much.

"Honey, can you loosen up a little?"

The grip pulling her to him relaxed and he chuckled. "I do love you."

"I know honey, I know. I've always known."

"Let's have sex?"

Maggie felt the lump on her head. The swelling was going down, "Let's do it right here, right now." She pulled her panties down and threw them on the floor. House fumbled with his belt buckle, the pace of his heart picking up. He watched as she reached down and pulled at his zipper, already feeling the bulge against the fabric of his trousers.

"Crap!" he muttered when the zipper stuck for a second.

She pulled the zipper up a little, freeing the fabric and then unzipped him all the way down. She peeled his pants back and put her lips down on the bulge under his shorts. He pushed up, his eyes fixed on her nuzzling him.

She growled, "Get your pants off."

He pulled his trousers down and off, "I bet you didn't think I missed you!"

"Oh baby, that bulge sure says it all." She pulled his shorts down and watched as his erection sprang up, hard and throbbing. She giggled.

"Could you stop talking and jump on. I haven't had any tang for weeks."

Straddling him, poised to lower herself onto him, she grinned, "Ready?"

He grit his teeth and without answering her, stabbed up into her, his face registering pleasure as he found his mark. Maggie bent over, feeling him deep inside of her. She gripped him and started to grind on top of him. Slipping up and down while still gripping, he started to wince from the pleasure, moaning as she increased the rhythm.

"Damnit Maggie, take the damn gown off so that I can hoover those breasts."

Maggie, bouncing up and down, pulled the gown off, revealing the creamy white breasts and pert pink nipples. House pulled her down and took her breast in his mouth, sucking on it. He snickered.

"I keep forgetting about the milk."

Maggie, who was watching him play with her breasts laughed, "I know, you've just triggered my milk."

House watched as the milk formed droplets off of her nipples. He reached up and licked both of them and then pulled her down to his chest. He loved the feel of her soft breasts against the hair of his chest. He kissed her as he continued to pump slowly up inside of her.

"Come on, get up."

"What?"

"Just get up."

Maggie dismounted and stood up. House pulled her over to the rolled arm of the sofa, bent her over and pushed her legs apart. Finding her slit, he pushed back inside, slapping her ass a couple of times for no reason but for his pleasure. He reached under and pulled up on her breasts, pushing further into her. The delicious wet, warm, feel of her muscles along with her white ass spread apart was only enhanced by the feel of her breasts against his arm.

"I may be fifty, but you always make me feel like I'm 31 again. Oh, damn…yeah." He could feel the release coming, the tingling in his groin, the pressure releasing slowly at first and then in fast spurts as he ejaculated. He grunted five times into her ear and then his breath escaped slowly from his lungs. Hardly able to talk, he pulled out and pulled her over to the couch where he pushed her back and started to finger her. He watched her clitoris peak out, but knew it was too sensitive to rub directly so he rubbed next to it, through the folds. She started to buck and tighten as the waves overtook that sweet, naked body of hers. The larger than normal breasts bounced with her as she screamed.

"Greg! Oh, God, Greg…that's right, right there, faster. Oh yeah, that's perfect. Ahhhhhhhhhh." She pulled away and giggled, "You are so good at this. Better than the rest."

"Gee, thanks. I guess. I hope you aren't insinuating you've had a lot to compare to."

"That's my secret and I'm keeping it."

House climbed on the couch with her where they held each other tightly. House realized how close he had come to losing Maggie and the thought brought wetness to his eyes. A tear rolled down. When Maggie saw it, her jaw dropped and then she hugged him harder.

"What was that about?" She asked.

He smirked, not wanting to be sentimental, but the thoughts of him losing her and how much she meant to him kept coming in waves, followed by a few more tears. "Mags, I've never loved anyone more than you. I never will. You're the one constant factor in my life; the one person I always knew was out there that loved me. I don't think I could live without that in my universe. I depend on it to keep me going."

"Oh, honey, I'm not going anywhere. We have a long time ahead of us."

"I hope so Mags, because I love you Heart and Soul."

The End

**Thanks to all the readers, especially to the readers in Camaroon, Turkey, Ireland, Zaire, Bulgaria and all the other countries! I was surprised to see from how many countries the readers come from! Please, if you're a reader from a foreign country, leave us a note!**


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